Bound By Honour
by beautifulramblingbrains
Summary: Eric has the best hand in all the factions, but can't seem to get to grips with his life as a parent to two grown Dauntless members. The honour is passed to Sarah as she battles with the woes of an unruly daughter and a wayward son. Balanced with a intricate web of personal struggles and outsiders, can they stop their family from falling apart? *Third Installment*
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_

You must have seen this coming?

Welcome to the third installment, and I apologize for delays in other updates but you can blame my holiday for giving me ideas.

Enjoy :)

* * *

 _Mirrors, exposing your reflection, were a pathway to the soul._

Delicate fingers run down a thin chain, hesitating on the drop of a pearl, positioning it back to the middle of her chest. The soft fabric of her black and gray checkered dress jacket is flattened by her palm as she takes a minute to collect herself.

On the outside is a counterfeit act of pure composure, while on the inside the golden haired woman is not.

The years had taken only a small toll, gracing her with thin lines at the corners of her eyes, but beyond that, when she stared at herself, she was still the same familiar girl; only lacking naivety and absurd expectations. She wondered whether this was that the difference now between girls and women - experience of reality.

There is a row of three basic sinks below the mirror, her folder of bereft work balanced precariously on the edge of the tiled surface. Luckily, it is a quiet time, no one else being around to disturb this moment of peace - which she is thankful for.

With one swift movement, she snaps up the folder, throwing the public bathroom door open and taking the expertly decorated corridor to the Leader's suite all the way to the engraved golden letters - E. Coulter.

"Mrs Coulter!" Her name is called by a young woman almost half her age, the newest secretary that could stand Eric for more than a month as she passes the desk. "Mrs Coulter! Eric is extremely busy!" she insists.

But she pays no mind to the cluttering way the assistant tries to stop her, opening the door with the minimalist taps on the door. She catches her husband, the father of her two grown children, half way through a sentence while on the phone. And his look is one of complete and utter exasperation, he knew exactly why she was there already.

He mumbles, "I'll call you back," and hooks the phone to its stand, gazing up from his desk expectantly as if he had no other care in the world.

Mrs Coulter couldn't deny that her husband had kept his favored looks effortlessly. There was no mere change to his body, his hair still cropped short and manageable, the only guess of grueling hours and a stressful life were dusting hairs on his temple if anyone bothered to look close enough. And if anything, his frown was now a small etching of ghostly lines that persisted even if he smiled.

"Sarah," he states her name with fake cheer.

"Please do not tell me that this had anything to do with you," she says, fighting the quivering anger of her lips.

"He wanted to go," he says flippantly, waving her off with a hand as he leans back in his chair.

"Jack did not. You have forced him to go."

"That boy of ours is too fucking soft, Sarah. He needs to get away from here, he needs to take a leaf out of his sister's book and grow a pair."

For years their son Jack had not reached Eric's expectations. Unlike his father, he was a thoughtful young man and has always been a more hesitant boy to his father's conditioning. He didn't always agree with him, and more so over the years. Eric didn't like it, and there was a rift in their relationship.

"I'm going to cancel it."

"You will not. It's all arranged. He knows he's going. This will be good for him. You can't coddle him forever."

His words sting; to her, they would always be her children, her babies, and nothing would change that. If she wanted to protect them even in their fifties, she would. Eric's mind frame is that of some overruling commander and had been for a while. The more he found fault in the personality of their son, the more he fought back with ways to toughen him. And that fighting stance now was to send Jack to the factionless camp outside of Amity for a month to put him on guard.

"He's a grown man and can make his own decisions. He won't want to go."

"I've spoken to him and we both agreed he needs to do this-"

"You mean, you told him to go and he said yes to please you."

"I am his father, but I am also his Leader. I will do what's best for my son." He was not budging and merely scowls at her, pressing one of the many buttons of his phone.

"And April?" she asks, feeling the ebbings of defeat.

"What about her?" he looks at her with an arched eyebrow.

"I told you, I caught her smoking, again. I tried to speak with her about it and she told me to shut up."

"She's a grown woman," is all he replies, reusing her words against her. Eric picks up some work from his desk, appearing done with this conversation.

"One rule for one, one rule for the other. You can't pick and choose between the both of them." She grips her folder tightly to her chest as he angrily glances at her.

"He's going. I'll speak to April. Are we done here?" he asks, his tone nothing short of annoyed.

Sarah can't help but shake her head at him, at the ignorant sight of him as he tries his best to ignore her with idle work on his desk. At that moment, his secretary brings him a coffee in a polystyrene cup, placing it on his desk while he thanks her in the most kindest way.

"I hope you choke on it." His eyes dart to hers and she smiles sickly sweet before leaving the room.

Her feet patter the floor in heels she began to wear in her late twenties, past the secretary who was now as quiet as a mouse, and towards the elevator. Eric will not chase her, in some ways he had grown accustomed to their bickering and this subject obviously wasn't important enough. Years ago that would have been a different story.

The elevator dings and opens to the bright interior lights with a sharp hiss, exposing a young man she almost blindly walks into. "I'm sorry. Excuse me." With the folders drawn to her chest, she tries to step past but is put-off when his young gracing smile grows wider.

"I hope I'm on the right floor," he wonders out aloud.

Sarah was always skeptical of newcomers, glancing down at the long hang of his jacket, the navy material almost glittering with a pristine shine and fitted snug to his physique. "Depends on what floor you are looking for..." She scares a little as his hand juts out to stop the doors shutting, the metal clinking back loudly.

"I'm looking for a person actually, Mr Coulter."

She squints at him in thought, before she asks slowly, "You are the new provised Leader of Erudite?"

"Blake Hammond," he introduces himself, bowing his head. "I wasn't expecting such a warm welcome." Sarah doesn't miss the slick way he talks - self-assured, flirtatious at the very least.

"What an unusual name," she comments in the politest way she could gather. "It's nice to meet you, Mr Hammond." She steps past him into the elevator with a dance of awkwardness as he steps out.

"I didn't catch your name?" he calls after her.

Sarah pushes the ground floor button quickly, in hopes of finding her longest friend at her place of work before the midday mayhem of lunch started. "Mrs Coulter."

As the door closes, his smile finally disappears, and she felt like she had finally won at least one battle of the day.

* * *

Sarah's love never had limits and never stopped at just her immediate family. There was one woman above all who she favored the most, and at the very least she would consider her more of a sister than a friend. This same woman had done exactly what she had planned from the very beginning. She had never let idealities of motherhood encroach her career-driven and particular life, never had a man for more than six months. And thankfully for Sarah, she was always the next emergency contact after herself and Eric within Dauntless not long after the children were born.

Stacey.

The red luminous hair was changed to a dark brown and it flows over her shoulders as Sarah watches her from outside the double doors of the infirmary, eyebrows puckered and a furious pen-hand.

Sarah tries subtlety at first, pushing one of the double doors that creak on entry. The troubled look instantly dissolves as she catches her eyes. "Is it that time already?"

"I don't mean to drag you away from your work kicking and screaming."

Stacey scoffs at that, instantly twirling for her jacket hooked behind her chair and covers her black scrubs and shiny badge which highlighted that she was the Head Nurse. But a good a friend as any, she had a knack for knowing instantly when something was wrong. "What has he done now?"

"Who?"

"You know evasive doesn't work well with me." Stacey bumps her shoulder while they walk side by side, taking the dank maze of Dauntless they called home. They both instinctively head towards the Mess hall, unbothered by the scurrying of people around them and the youths of their boisterous society forming in groups. Sarah had long left her fears and Abnegation way of life behind.

"Let's just say, Eric wasn't joking when he said he was going to put Jack on guard duty."

"You checked the schedule again, didn't you?"

"Even if he is twenty years old, he is still my boy, of course I did." They reach the Mess hall, filtering inside and joining the queue to grab the mundane food served on rota each week. When filling their trays, Sarah decides to continue. "What's worse, is Eric knew I'd check. He didn't tell me himself." She chooses the minimal of food, suddenly not so hungry. "And then there is April. It's the first time I can truly say, as a mother, I'm lost. I'm not used to this feeling. Since her initiation, I just… I just don't know her anymore."

"Wish I could help you there, but I can't. I can lend an ear, though." Stacey shrugs, filling her own tray.

"Good," Sarah sighs, choosing a red apple over the green. "Because God knows I need it."

Stacey is a little more hard-wearing than Sarah, her posture and stride fit to rival a man's, but her body is just as dainty as it had ever been. She throws her leg over one of the farthest benches, situated to one side of the room. While the tables begin to fill up, they sit down next to each other.

"Right, so I'm just going to say it," Stacey mumbles, taking a forkful of some limp looking pasta. "You're not dealing with kids here anymore, they are full-grown initiated members of Dauntless and can pick and choose their own way of lives now."

"Doesn't mean I don't worry."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't, I'm just saying perhaps you worry _too_ much. Besides," Stacey shrugs, "they still live with you, they obviously do recognize a good thing."

Sighing, Sarah puckers her lips in thought, rolling the apple to and fro. "I had dreams of being close to my daughter. I've grown up with a brother and sisters and done my best to keep the family together… even through all the…" Sarah picks up the apple and bites it viciously.

"Shit?"

"April is so like Eric, so ignorant, self-indulgent, careless, short-tempered. So much so that I'm afraid. She smokes, she drinks, and… who knows what else."

"Again," her longest friend points her fork at her, "she is eighteen years old. What were you doing at eighteen?"

"Whatever I was told to do. I am Abnegation-"

"In a Dauntless world. At her age now, you were already pregnant with Jack."

Aghast, Sarah clamps her palms to her cheeks. "Is it me?" she asks wide-eyed. "Is it because of me?"

The pointing fork is back to work, but moves from Sarah's increasingly whitening face to into the crowd, homing in on Eric and April walking in together. April has her arms crossed, her face perfectly immaculate and hair straightened from the family's obvious trait of waves and curls - another thing she blamed her mother for. When they stop by a table, Eric seems to be hissing something quickly at her with the most raging of scowls. The pair of them matched in their jet black uniforms and similar noses, though Eric seems sick to death at the sight of her and his daughter only seems to linger around him.

"It's nobody's fault, Sarah, some people are just born difficult." The meaning of her words are not lost on her and she understood that Eric was a divine character in his own right, let alone handing that gene down. "And…" Stacey squints as Eric spots them and begins striding his way over, daughter in tow. "He looks extremely pissed."

"I may have told him to choke on his coffee." Sarah meets Eric's steadfast eyes, tilting her chin up, remembering that she was still annoyed with him.

Stacey chortles but regains her composure quickly, scrambling to her feet. "I'm out of here." Her longest friend also appears to be a coward.

"Sarah," Eric tries, just acknowledging Stacey with a turn of his body as she walks off without looking back.

"Mom," April interjects with the advantage at the same time. "I'm sorry I told you to shut up. But you can't tell me what to do with my body."

Sarah only shakes her head. There was nothing sincere in her apology.

"Did you check the inventory for the warehouses like I asked? Have you seen Jack?" Eric asks, a deep scowl edging on his forehead.

"I put my favorite top in the wash last night and I tried to find it because I want to wear it tonight, and it is _still_ in the wash basket," April whines next to him.

Eric ignores their daughter and rambles on, "I wonder if Glenn has seen Jack. Where is that fucking boy when you need him? Are we having dinner at eight?"

It all becomes too much and Sarah slams her sweating palms down onto the table.

"Uh oh, we broke mom," their daughter mumbles.

"April, leave us." The young girl is about to protest, but a quick lift of hand in dismissal from her father is enough to send her on her way. He takes Stacey's seat, facing towards her, his knees either side as he breathes out slowly. She doesn't look at him. "My little wife is unhappy. Is it because I didn't choke?"

She says nothing.

"You know, that wasn't a nice thing to say." He pulls at her sleeve. "Though, you do look provocative with an edge and sharp mouth."

"Stop it." She bats at him, but he's too quick, grabbing both her hands to make her face him. "Eric, stop." He only pulls her closer, manipulating her hands to caress his thighs. "I'm really, really angry and you are provoking me. I don't like it when you do that."

"Oh yes? Not that I'm provoking at all just so that I can see your pathetic little frown and coy attempt to hide your smile."

She tilts her head to the side to look up at him, unable to help the betrayal of her small grin. "Flirting with me is pointless."

"Flirting? I thought we got off on threatening suggestions? You can choke on a piece of me if that's what you are into."

Sarah's cheeks flame up and she turns back to the table. "Enough," she hisses.

Eric barks a laugh and stops invading her personal space. "If you want to talk, now is the time. But what _is_ pointless is trying to persuade me otherwise on Jack's situation."

"He's our son, Eric."

"And I have made it perfectly clear about what I expect and I'm not going to change my mind," he insists with no give in his voice. The message was clear.

"Well then," she hesitates and she knows Eric doesn't like it as he can never tell what runs through her mind - so he says. "Mark is to go with him." Mark was her sister's husband. He had years of experience, running his own teams around the city and knew it like the back of his hand.

"He's twenty fucking years old, he doesn't need a babysitter."

"Mark goes with him," she repeats, snapping her head over her shoulder. "Mark goes or April. Your decision?" Now, this was not to hint that she wanted either of them to go, she just knew Eric wouldn't agree to have his little girl, their reckless but precious little girl, handed to the wolves on duty.

He leans back away from her, his eyes flashing with something dark. "You're being dramatic."

"Am I?" Sarah asks coyly.

"I'm not listening to this any longer, if you want me I'll be in my office." Eric stands, straightening the crease of his pants with an angry tap but still lingering next to her.

"I'll call Mark myself."

"You do that." He turns, heading towards the double doors as Sarah looks around to half of the Dauntless in the room watching him.

"And I don't know what time dinner will be," she calls after him - she was being petty, she knew, but she couldn't resist.

"Whatever."

* * *

Sarah doesn't manage to get home until after nine. She had sat in one of the board rooms of the suite to finish some council work from Abnegation, having taken longer than necessary as her mind had wandered.

She kicks off her heels by the door, spreading her toes wide and sighing at the ache of a long day. There's life inside the apartment - a shower running, music drifting from one of the rooms. Dumping her work on the counter, she heads down the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

Finding Jack's door open, she peers inside cautiously. He's sat on the bed with his cropped brown hair under chunky headphones, the bright light of a pad illuminating his face. He doesn't see her at first and she takes a long moment to study his features. He was a broad and tall boy, muscular to an extent with the ebbings of still being a teen. He was handsome, of course he was, he was her handsome young man and April was their beautiful daughter who she had spent so much love and time bringing them up and into themselves. She smiles softly at the way they were just so different.

She cannot stand to wait and heads into his room, taking a seat next to him on the bed while he pulls off his headphones. "Mom? What's wrong?"

"I just…" She swallows thickly, showing her best smile. "I just wanted to see you. I missed you today."

"I was in the courtyard, keeping myself busy."

"Yes. Of course you were. Did dad find you?"

"He did." The grim look on his face is obviously in memory of where he's going in a few days. "But I'm cool with it."

"You don't have to lie to me."

He shrugs, putting his hands behind his head and stretches. "Dad made sandwiches with a fucking murderous look on his face. Said he didn't want to cook after the gym. Now he's in the shower."

"Don't swear."

Jack scoffs. "Sorry." Sarah stands, leaning down and kisses his cheek. "Have you eaten? I can make you a sandwich?" he asks.

"Don't ever worry about me, that's my job. I think I'll go to bed, today has been... well, today has been and gone, let's leave it at that."

"Goodnight." Jack slips the headphones back on, picking up where he had left off.

Sarah makes a quick detour to April's room. Empty, she thought as much. Clothes were strewn across the room, her vanity mirror still on, and upon it, hundreds of different lotions and makeup, more than any one girl could need. She shuts the door on the mess.

The bedroom she shares with Eric smells like him, the soap he uses drifting from the ensuite bathroom. While the water is still running, she strips out of the confines of her clothes down to her underwear and releases her long hair. But no matter how much she tried to occupy herself, there was still a menacing air that suffocated her. For years she and Eric smoothly sailed, agreeing to disagree at points, but this time it felt stronger. Something had cracked or shifted and she felt stricken by it. She couldn't seem to let it go and Eric wasn't seeing her point.

It was a sensitive subject. This was their children and this is all she had known for so long that suddenly one of them being taken away for an extended period of time pained her. Perhaps she was trying to hold onto the both of them as they reached adulthood, no mother wanted to let their kids into the big wide world, but she also didn't care. They were her resolve, her first thought. What was she going to do without them?

"Sarah." She jumps at Eric's touch, only now realizing she had been standing idle in the room by the concerned look on his face. "Where have you been?"

"I had some stuff from Abnegation to catch up on." Her voice is lost into the awkward atmosphere of the room. Eric stands with a loose towel hanging precariously around his waist, water droplets still sat glittering on his shoulders. "I'm going to take a shower."

"You could've joined me." He stops her and, as per usual, unclips her bra as she pushes her hair to the side. His touch is gentle and familiar, lingering longer than necessary on her arms, pulling at the straps. Without thinking, she shrugs him off and shies away. "What?" Eric's face contorts, confusion beginning to settle in.

"I'm not in the mood."

"Not in the mood?" Eric asks himself incredulously, watching her pass. "Not in the fucking mood? When have you ever said that?" Of course, Eric being Eric doesn't stop there or let her have a second by herself. He follows her to the shower where she closes the sliding door on him, his silhouette ghostly behind the glazed glass. "Sarah..."

"What, Eric?" She tries her best to ignore him, faking the enjoyment of the warm water, rushing her usual cleaning routine. As she steps out he hands her a towel. "I'm very tired. That is all."

He scours her face for a moment, darting furiously between her features. "I thought we got over this bridge earlier? Mark is going with Jack-"

"I don't want him going _at all_!"

He throws up his arms in exasperation. "You are the only person to have a problem with this! Jack isn't bothered!"

"How long?"

Eric shrugs. "A month max."

"A month!" she gasps into her hand. She can't bring herself to look at him when she moves past him and reaches into one of the many drawers and pulls out her night dress. She slips it on quickly, heading back to the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair. Standing side by side with Eric while he brushes his teeth as well, he silently glares at her from time to time. Even when she plaits her hair over her shoulder, she can still feel his eyes on her.

But she doesn't utter a word, even when she heads to bed, pulling back the covers to slip inside.

The lights flick off, but she can still make out the picture through the darkness, of her and the two children on the bedstand of a time when they were very young.

* * *

Sarah lifts her head, the room is still dark, her arm trapped under Eric's, his bare back like her own personal radiator she gravitated to regardless of how much of an ass he could be.

The hallway light is on, beaming under the breach of the door, along with the minimalist noise.

She knew her duty now, and with a few year's practice she slips away from Eric, tucks the covers over him and leaves the room. The shared main bathroom is at the end of the hall opposite April's room, and Sarah isn't surprised to find April with her head down the pan.

Gracefully, Sarah tiptoes down beside her, pulling back the tangled blond locks of her daughter, checking her face covered in smudged makeup. She smells terrible, some concoction of cigarettes, booze, and faded perfume.

April begins gagging again, vomiting into the toilet, her voice muffled as she slurs, "Mom?"

"I'm here," she soothes and caresses her daughter's back.

* * *

April never remembers the previous night or refuses to acknowledge it. They all have breakfast, usually Eric and the two kids rambling on and laughing at bad jokes or insults over the table. Sarah couldn't fault April in her facade of being flawless. She was flawless, and nobody would ever be able to guess.

Envious that nothing seemed to trouble them, Sarah stands back and watches them with a coffee in her hand - another thing Eric had got her into over the years.

"...No, I don't agree. The law should be with Candor, a mix of truth serums and some type of containment center. We police, we guard, we have a say over…" April can't find the words, roll-calling from Eric who seems to have a sloppy smirk on his face as he listens intently.

"Productivity," he chimes in, picking up his coffee to sip.

"Yeah, like all that crap with Amity and the factionless quarter - But anyway that's not what I'm getting at. I don't agree that Dauntless should be responsible for overseeing criminals."

"But what you are suggesting is going to make Dauntless work harder." Jack taps the table, leaning closer into hunched shoulders. "Say we do move a shitty, whatever you called it-"

"Containment center," Eric corrects him.

"We are commuting to and from Candor - because we all know Candor won't hull ass, with the probability of permanently having staff situated on their ground when it's easier to have it here."

April leans back in her chair. "Sometimes the easy option isn't the best option."

"The best option is sometimes the easy option when it's staring you in the face. Sometimes you have to let things be."

"Whatever. I believe my ideas are better than yours and, quite frankly, they always will be."

Jack scoffs, getting comfortable in his chair and picking up his toast. "You can't bear to be proven wrong."

"I'm not wrong. I never will be." April smiles. She stands up, clapping her dad's shoulder as she passes towards her bedroom and Jack looks towards his mom, shaking his head.

Sarah finishes her coffee, cleaning the cup quickly. "I'm going to work."

"Where?" Eric's tone is as sharp as a knife, and he takes the little distance between them. "I have arranged some things for you this morning, so I hope it's not far."

"Abnegation. I have some files for the council and I was hoping to visit my mother."

"Why couldn't she be the first to go?"

His quip digs deep along with her recent feelings. "Eric!" she exclaims.

"What, little wifey?" He pulls her close and she fights him, her dark gray dress being lifted along with her leg up to his waist.

"Stop it." Her eyes flicker to Jack who is too involved with his phone. "You're being repulsive," she hisses.

"Let's wait for the kids to go and I can show you how repulsive I really am?" His voice is slick, a pure picture of glee with her struggling in his hands. She grabs a hold of him to balance herself and he lifts her entirely from the floor. "I like it when you have a little vicious streak. You've been hostile lately and I find it fucking hot."

"Get a room!" April swings her bag over her shoulder. "You seriously going to sit there and watch this?" she asks Jack on her way out.

He lifts his head and grimaces. "Ugh." And chases after her just as quickly out the door, toast in hand.

The minute they leave, Eric drops Sarah to her feet. "Works every time." He nods in self-glory, incredibly happy with himself, not noticing Sarah straightening herself out and grabbing her work from the side to leave. "I was half-serious. If you wanted-"

"No." She hears him take a breath and swivels on her heel, telling him, "No," again.

"Fine. Prance off but don't go too far, _sweetheart_ ," he drawls and Sarah stops with her hand on the door handle, the door slightly ajar. She turns around to him already smirking, arms folded and resting a hip against the counter nonchalantly. Pursing her lips, she is completely livid at how predictable she was. And it doesn't help when he asks huskily, "Where do you want it?"

She closes the door, damning herself - it works every time.

* * *

They rush together to the Leader's suite, Eric with a terribly annoying spring in his step. Any chance of escaping to do her work was lost. Eric was a smart man, too smart at times, and had perfectly delayed them so that she could see to a new assignment he was giving her, only briefly mentioned earlier at breakfast and filling in the blank lines along the way.

Sarah would be working with Erudite. She was to liaison with the new leader, cater to their needs while Eric concentrated on the offer from Candor to shift the containment center - ultimately trying to bring themselves into higher favor.

In the past, there had been a slip in the runnings of Amity's corrupt nature of not being able to fail any of their initiates. Since their program had been redefined, Dauntless were in higher standing order with most initiates, seven years running. At least ten of those years enrolling half of the entire number of initiates while the others were left quartered between themselves. In Sarah's eyes, it was a stupid game of popularity, a popularity that would ensure Eric as the most authoritative Leader. Candor wanted a piece of that. It gave Eric a very good dealing hand, and he knew it.

Eric lifts Sarah's skirt in the elevator just as the doors open. "Do you mind?" She smacks his hand away, fumbling with a folder and still trying to flatten kinks out of her hair. Though they had fallen into an old habit, it doesn't mean that she couldn't still hold a grudge against him and his decisions.

"Not in the slightest." He leans further down as they walk to the many bodies lingering in the corridor. "I'll be thinking of you today." Instantly she ignites in pure embarrassment while Eric claps his hands together to alert everyone of his presence. He may as well have openly announced that he had just screwed his wife before arriving here.

The group of people consists of Glen, a second-hand man of Eric's, the seven-year running leader of Candor, Brian Page, and the new leader of Erudite, Blake Hammond. Eric's secretary also pigeoned herself to and fro between them, along with a few idle members from Dauntless ready to take any order. They seem to be getting along nicely, drinking coffee, casually regarding Eric and Sarah like they had all been friends for years.

"I take it that your arrival went smoothly," Eric starts, shaking hands with Brian and Blake first.

"We have our own bays, how thoughtful." Blake's eyes flick to Sarah just off of Eric's shoulder, and she smiles to a degree of uncertainty. Other faction members who arrived by vehicle were singled out and kept under guard. Eric was fail-safe when it came to security.

"My wife, Sarah. Don't be fooled by the Abnegation ghost, she's well versed in all factions."

"A true idol of her faction," Blake nods in acknowledgment.

Eric only has to look at his secretary and she insists Brian of Candor to wait in Eric's office, along with the Dauntless.

"I hear your interest is on expansion?" Sarah arches an eyebrow. She had reason to be wary of Erudite after Jeanine's collapse, and not many that took her place faired any better. "But I have looked at your reports and your intake is no different then a was a few years ago. It's interesting that this, as a new provised leader, is something you're concentrating on."

Blake wasn't expecting that, and tilts his head, grinning to himself. "Exactly why I am here today. It's a proposal." Briefly, he looks to Eric who is smugly taking in every little bit of his wife standing next to him. "Shall we take this matter to the board room though, Candor gossip is exhausting."

Sarah peers from the open door where she can see Brian eavesdropping in the spare bucket chair up to Eric, slightly unsure of this situation and the responsibility that comes with it. It takes her a moment to also realize that Blake thinks Eric will be gracing him with his presence, and he couldn't be more wrong. But if she wanted a firmer say on their son's situation; to prove that no matter how someone appeared, they were still just as capable, she would take on all of the five factions. "You may put your proposal to me. I will be overseeing your concern."

"Yeah, I failed to mention my schedule is pretty hectic," Eric fakes sincerity, rubbing his neck. It was obvious he thought the Erudite matter was bullshit. He slaps Blake's shoulder roughly, and props to him that he takes it with a pinch of salt. "We're already behind so shall we get started?"

"The room on the left," Sarah points. Blake moves off and she turns to Eric, whispering, "He didn't know did he?"

He shows his teeth with his smile. "If he's smart enough to be in this position, he should know I'm not in the slightest interested."

"I can't believe you!"

"Believe it." He kisses her hard on the lips to cover his laugh and slaps her ass when she turns away, causing her to stumble ungracefully.

A few seconds before opening the spare board room doors, she breathes out, picking up her head and moving swiftly inside as if business was her only concern. It's a stark contrast from Eric's lively office, just the lone man already waiting with one of his ankles resting on his knee as he leans back in a chair.

"I'm sorry for any confusion," she apologizes, taking the end seat and opening up her notes.

"Don't apologize, everybody knows the limits of Mr Coulter's hospitality."

Sarah tightly smiles to herself. "It can be rather _limited_." She spreads the notes on the table for easy viewing.

"We all say his wife deserves a medal," Blake strangely continues.

"I didn't realize I would be the center of gossip. I recall you saying gossip was exhausting."

"Candor gossip is exhausting." He laughs deeply. "They strive for the truth but their loud mouths speak anything other."

"But you obviously don't do any better talking about me?" She looks sharply at him, and a silence falls.

After a while, his voice is so low she almost doesn't hear him. "Only good things."

Sarah can't figure out whether he's lying or not, and the room seems awfully quiet. She's stunted from speaking further, blinking at him and unknowing of how to react. Mr Hammond then sits up with a long breath, moving seats to get closer, and leans on his forearms.

"What I'm trying to prove, is that change is a good thing…" Mr Hammond begins, and Sarah forces herself to keep her eyes on the notes, swallowing down the confusion and the possibility that a man half her age is trying to flirt. But not only flirting, he's vying on her subject of change that is happening between her two children, though he is referring to work and couldn't possibly know anything about her situation. Maybe she was just being oversensitive and imagining it all… "For years, since Jeanine's downfall, Erudite has sat in the same position, living in the past. We need a refresh. I have already started on the initiation program, offering long-standing courses for continuous education even after members have fallen into their preferred roles."

The realization of why Eric couldn't be bothered with this meeting is apparent. There is no way her husband would sit through an Erudite bragging of his work or telling him of future prospects or higher education.

"Expansion and the smallest and beneficial changes to our structure is what Erudite needs. And let's be honest, the world cannot be bought up on the back of soldiers, we need variety. Exactly the reason why the faction system is there." He pauses for only a moment. "I suppose that it is the basis of my proposal. And I find it profusely evident that I must pursue this issue."

"I understand."

"You do?" he's quick to utter, never looking away from her.

"I work with the council. I have my own views. And I find myself agreeing, to an extent."

"All we need is the go ahead with Mr Coulter's permission. I've already broached the subject with Erudite's architects and plans are being drawn to present to him."

"To me," Sarah corrects him. "I am in charge of this operation."

"Mr Coulter wasn't awfully clear, how idiotic of me. You, of course."

Sarah slides the papers back into the folder, pauses to smile tightly and takes a breath. "Forgive me if I speak out of line, but I warn you not to take me for a fool, Mr Hammond."

"Wouldn't dream of it. I was honestly hoping I had somebody reasonable to take my case."

"We shall discuss this further when you have the plans drawn out. I would preferably like to see them before we go into details. If I had been aware earlier of this situation, I would have asked for them before this initial meeting and wasting your time," she speaks, making her words terminal. Blake's eyes rest on her face, a dark blue - which initially she thought were brown, are so unlike Eric's. They were deceiving in the fact she couldn't, at once, see his pupils or calculate his thoughts. Sarah had spent a lot of her younger life living off of the tell-tale signs of body language, and his were confusing.

"Just give me a time and date and I would be happy to show you the layout personally if you so wish it."

Sarah stands up, holding the folder to her chest. "Perhaps," she says coldly. "Thank you for your time, Mr Hammond." She heads to the door, but he's quick to counter, holding it open for her.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, Sarah."

"Mrs Coulter," she corrects him again. She leads him to the secretary, her dress billowing behind as she walked quickly, nervous of him behind her. "We'll call down to have your car ready and cleared through security."

"Thank you." He nods his head to the both her and the secretary, his long jacket twirling with him as he moved off towards the elevator. When it dings and he steps inside, he winks handsomely at the secretary, and Sarah taps the desk once the doors close.

"Make the call, _Betty_." Betty fumbles as she always did, her hand knocking against multiple things for the phone. "And tell Eric that I'm heading to Abnegation this afternoon."

With the phone to her ear, Betty holds a hand out. "When will you be back?"

"I don't know. But let's face it, I'll be back home before he even asks." Sarah smiles, heading home to find her long jacket and boots, and to pin her hair back in its usual bun. She liked to keep to traditions when on her original factions ground.

A small dose of family therapy is probably all she needs.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:

Hello :)

This chapter may be a little shorter than usual as I had to cut it, but fun-filled none the less. :D

* * *

No matter how much Sarah was involved with her Dauntless side of life, once she steps onto the track of Abnegation, a little buzz of familiar warmth spreads throughout her. Paired with her boots and jacket she only wore on her small outings to Abnegation, she felt a little bit more herself.

She greets the people as she passes with a bright smile, bobbing her head as she passed to small chiming 'Hello's' and 'Good afternoon's.' It _was_ a good afternoon, the sun was shining with a few sparse clouds, the people were out in their gray glory, the school to her left buzzed with children in the playground just as the bell rang for them to come back inside. And gosh, she missed the sight of the cube-shaped houses, practically identical to the one she grew up in.

Mary's house is nearer to the council hall, further up the straight track, lined with the same graveled walkway they all had but with small wild flowers left to grow in the small square garden. She's a few feet from the door, and from the window can see a buzz of life inside; hands flailing and bodies zipping past. A small knock and a rosy-cheeked older woman answers.

"Mrs Patrick," Sarah sighs as the woman pulls her into her arms.

"Oh, look at you!" The older woman checks her face with motherly tenderness, hands palm side on her cheeks. "Mary! Mary!" she calls loudly. "Your sister is here! Come on in!"

The house always seems to be permanently cluttered with strips of material, measuring tapes, and freakish manikins. Mary's tailoring had hit an all-time high. Not only did she outsource made-to-measure suits, she fitted children's clothes, wedding dresses mainly for Amity and tucked in the bedsheets suppose-to-be outfits provided for Abnegation. Mary also had her own team to help her and most of them were here now.

She catches Mary kneeling by a long skirt, a woman wearing it while she snipped and tucked the hem, her mouth holding scissors. "Sarah, if you'll give us a minute I'll be right there," she mumbles.

"Please don't rush for me." Sarah liked nothing more than watching her sister work, it was with complete passion. She takes a seat at the table and watches. "Your dress is very pretty," she ends up commenting to the lady patiently standing.

"It's not hers." Mary's voice is distance as she tilts back to study something and carries on. "And she is mute."

"Oh. I'm… I'm sorry, I didn't know." The girl she commented on can barely look at her, a certain mixture of shyness and embarrassment, her eyes flickering across but her head unmoving.

"Anna is my best model. She doesn't tell me how I _should_ be working." Mary's voice is pretty abrupt but Sarah pays no mind. "But she has a good eye and more than enough times guided me."

"Well, you are doing a marvelous job."

"The next wedding event we have coming up, Anna will be in charge."

Sarah could almost hear Eric scoff, saying aloud 'how could she expect someone mute to be in charge', and it annoys her. She shakes her head quickly. "I can come back another day if you're too busy."

"No, no!" Mary does one final ceremonious snip and leans back onto her feet. "We are done for now. Mrs Patrick, will you help Anna out of the dress while I speak with Sarah?" There's a muffled reply from the kitchen and Mary quickly moves across, taking Sarah's hands as she sits down. "I would really like you to stay and talk about something other than dressmaking." From the flowery white cuffs of Mary's dress sleeves, down to the ribbons on her boots, there was no mistaking a tailor. The most amusing thing is, is that she is an Abnegation, and had enough style to outlast most of the young girls at Dauntless.

Sarah, the elder of the two, pushes back a piece of her sister's straying hair, watching her eyes soften as she tumbles back to reality and out of her work. "I have a lot of things other than dressmaking to talk about. And right now I don't even know where to begin."

"The most important?"

Sarah smiles. "How is my niece?"

"You are like sandpaper, you know that?" Mary laughs.

"Why?"

"Smoothing everything over."

"I suppose that's better than when you called me an egg, at least."

Mary holds her hand up in the air as if under oath. "I swear by it, that that, at the time, was the best explanation of how you looked. A fried egg on its side was what you looked like pregnant."

"Let's not go over this again. It still sounds just as stupid as the first time."

They fall quiet; but not awkwardly, until Mary sighs off into the room, "That seems a world away." She perks up quickly, her head snapping back. "Your niece is fine. What about mine - Other than what Mark has already told me?"

"Your niece and nephew are…" She frowns to herself, playing with the cuff of her jacket. "April is smoking and drinking. And, well, you know about Jack. I'm so disappointed…"

"They will figure themselves out, just give it time-"

"No," Sarah interrupts her. "Not them - well, yes them. But it's Eric I'm disappointed with. He made this decision without me. He threatened and warned but had never done anything about it before. Now he has. And takes no responsibility for April's problems! He sleeps soundly at night and I can't remember the last time I did."

"He'll come to his senses."

"No, you don't understand. He lets April get away with _everything_. What she apologizes for is no way _near_ sincere. She tells me to shut up, be quiet, go away, probably bitch when I leave the room. Then we have Jack, a little reserved, easy-going, kind-hearted, and Eric feels the need to send him away as if somehow this will help him ' _grow as a man'_ or whatever plans he's got in his head now." Sarah's lips tremble and she stands up quickly to mask it, heading to the window and looking out into the bright sunshine. "It's tiring."

"Life pivots unexpectedly at weird times. Look at where we are now and how times have changed. Things will work their way out. We know that better than anyone."

Her sister is right. Meeting Eric for the first time was horrific. How she had been then, like Anna, eyes cast to the floor most of the time, unable to speak her thoughts, not understanding the mindset of Dauntless and wishing each day away. Then there was what her parent's put her through at such a young age, shoving her in the firing line as Eric's assistant when their mother had a fall and their pride was too big to let another take her place. Nobody had told her about him. Nobody had warned her. Nobody but her, through experience, taught her to fight for what she believed in. The decisions and choices she made thereafter, others would probably only read or dream about; their opinions probably varied on what way she should have chosen to live her life.

But unexpectedly, Sarah found that in time she had carved Eric out, realizing that she was probably just as twisted to fall for him, that _somehow_ they worked. _He_ needed her to function, and _she_ needed him to keep the fire burning in the pit of her stomach. He taught her that she was just as selfish and indulgent as him, and she showed him that there was redemption for even the cruelest.

This situation would work its way out. Whatever this feeling was, this uncertainty, she could figure it out.

Suddenly, Sarah flinches to Mary's touch, dragging her from her thoughts. "I think this calls for an afternoon tipple."

"You can't be serious?"

"It's becoming mandatory." Mary smiles, her boots clattering against the floor as she makes her way over to a cabinet on the furthest side of the room. "Don't tell Mark. It's a present from a customer." She presents a glass bottle, corked, with clear liquid inside. "I think it's pear something."

"I'm supposed to be visiting Mother."

"You can go tomorrow. If you stay a little longer, Thomas will be making an appearance soon. Plus, you're not in the best of moods. Jesus, even in the best of moods I still want to knock her from her wheelchair."

The bubble of laughter erupts from Sarah, Mary joining in while pouring two small glasses.

* * *

"...It's a month. Mark is joining you and leaving on the weekends to be with his family. But you will be staying there." Eric looks up from the assignment sheet to his son's eyes that dance across the desk nervously. When he hesitates to answer, Eric rolls his lips together impatiently, swiveling in his chair to and fro. Jack has the traits of his mom that it's almost sickening, and he has to bite his tongue to try and not snap at him to sit up fucking straight.

Jack rubs his hands on his pants before answering, "Yes, sir."

"Once you have come back, we can have the conversation again about what you want to do. Preferably, I believe with some training, you'll be right to start working under me. To do that, you have a lot of people to get above." Jack doesn't say anything, so he continues. "We _should_ have done this as soon as you had finished initiation." _But apparently, mother knows best..._

"Yes, sir."

Eric kisses his teeth, leaning forward and feeling a little out of his comfort zone. "Have you nothing to say?"

"No. I understand that you are doing what is best for me." _Yep, he was Sarah a hundred times over._

"Let me tell you a little something," Eric begins, keeping his voice low. "Me and your mom had a rough start, so to speak, at the beginning of our…" He wanders off in thought before saying, "relationship." Jack's head quirks up, more interested than he was before - now that it wasn't something to do directly with him or work. "I held her back. My sole-focus was her for a long time - until you, obviously. But the point is I learned that sometimes you have to give a little and people rise to the challenge. In other cases, when holding back, you realize some people are the opposite and need a push."

"So, you are saying I'm not like any other person in my family? Mom and April didn't need to be pushed?"

"No, you are like me." Eric answers and Jack furrows his brow curiously. "I wasn't happy with Erudite and my parents weren't exactly a good example. I got tired of being nothing, considered _as_ nothing. When I got to choose my path, I chose two at the same time; one being Dauntless, and two, I was going to become a Leader. There was no other option for me." The words sink into his son, his head turning away in thought. "Those experiences of my life and past pushed me into where I am today."

"Along with others _you_ pushed into the chasm?"

"Casualties," Eric expresses flippantly. "Dauntless wasn't like how it is today." He slouches back in his chair. "I would say motherfucking backstabbers, but the old guy liked to push. Well… he tried to anyway." Chuckling to himself, Jack doesn't share his amusement because he doesn't have the slightest clue who Max is. He was just another faceless rumor. "...That's a whole other story."

"I figured."

"Sort your shit-" He's interrupted by Betty suddenly popping her head in the door.

"Sarah isn't on the premises. I've tried calling her and there is no reply."

Of course, Eric doesn't believe her, instantly picking up his phone and trying himself. He slams the phone down, cursing under his breath and stands up. Not on the premises also meant still no reports on the warehouse. "Dad?" His rampage is halted, throwing his head over his shoulder to his son staring up at him. "You still love mom? Like, that would never change? No matter what?"

This pansy shit Eric loathed the absolute most. He's almost stunned into silence. But he couldn't help but get the sixth sense that this question meant a lot more. It was a stupid fucking question, but the underlying meaning was overly important. "I've already proved that once in my life already. I can easily say, no matter what." As he turns and stalks the corridor, he runs a hand down his face. He'll think more about that later, because it's already hit seven, and his little wife was still lost on her was a first in a long time.

* * *

Mary opens her door to Eric leaning against the frame with an impatient sneer. "Eric," she greets him tightly.

"Where is she?" She opens the door wider, allowing him inside. Mark's eating his dinner at the table with his young daughter Eliza and grimaces at him in passing. He's shown towards the living room, finding his wife asleep on the couch, curled into a ball with her jacket and boots still on. "Leave us." He doesn't spare a glance, the door clicking quietly behind, and goes over to crouch next to her head. Pushing back the fine hairs that had fallen into her face, he sighs. "What are you still doing here?"

Her eyes open with that blaze of blue that enchanted him from the moment he met her. "You're a mean man." Instantly he tries not to smile. "You didn't know where I was. I bet you have only just found out. You are sending our son away. My daughter hates me. I don't want to be in charge of that Erudite project thing-"

"Woe is you."

"And you are smiling _still_." She buries her face towards the couch to try and block him out.

"I think somebody has had a little too much to drink, don't you?"

She pushes back to scowl at him, a pathetic attempt. "I am serious. This is not drunkenness but saddestness."

Eric snorts. "Right."

"This is the very, _very_ lowest I've been..." The more serious she tries to appear the more he laughs.

"Yeah, I suspect very close to the bottom of the bottle. You'll regret it tomorrow."

"...it's like cold hands have gripped my heart-"

"Enough with the poetics." She shifts back on his words, gazing up at him. Slowly, a miscalculated hand reaches out, barely missing his eye and strokes his cheek. He could feel his annoyance beginning to radiate. "Sarah-"

"Do you love me?"

Eric sighs through his nose. "If I didn't, would I be here now?"

"Just answer me." She mumbles some other incoherent word that he's not bothered about. It sounded sort of like Jack, but he makes out its probably Jerk.

"Fine. Yes. Of course." He grabs her annoying hand and lays it flat on the couch again.

"Do you love our children?"

"Yes."

"Then _why_ are you doing this?"

"I'm doing this _because_ I love you all. We've done it your way since they were born, and now it's time to do things _my way_. No harm will come of this, that I can promise you. There is no danger." He watches her eyelashes flutter, peering off across the room. "He has Mark and I will check in every day. And to be honest, we have to start putting this behind us." Thankfully she nods because he'd killed for less. But really he was only giving her the reassurances she wanted to hear so he could get out there as quickly as possible. "So, are you coming home or staying here?"

"Home, please. I did try but Thomas turned up, and then Eliza-."

"But _this_ is the end of this conversation, Sarah. I don't want to hear it anymore." She nods again but a little slower, trying to sit up. Her hair sticks out and she wobbles slightly in her seat. "I should be really annoyed with you, but I got a little deja vu and mild semi." She is definitely slaughtered because she smiles and begins trying to hide it underneath her hand. "Come on."

* * *

Sarah is the last to wake. She appears ready for the day and ignores the way everybody looks at her as she passes. Flicking on the coffee machine, she keeps her back to them.

"You okay, mom?" Jack asks.

"Absolutely fine." She busies herself with trying to find a mug, then places a sugar neatly into it, still not turning around. She can hear them snickering and the low rumble of Eric's voice.

"Feeling a bit dazed?" Eric asks this time.

"No, why would I be dazed?" The coffee machine clicks off and she pours herself a decent amount.

"Does your heart still feel cold?" The mirth in April's tone is unmissable.

"You're such a dick, April," Jack mutters.

"What? Mom got drunk for the like, the second time ever, and we can't talk about it?"

Sarah turns and catches Eric's eyes, he's smirking lightly, one arm outstretched in a casual pose with his morning beverage and she gets the fleeting image of throwing it in his mocking face. "I'm fine." She tries to smile but her head is pounding. "Eat your breakfast." _Then please leave me alone_ , she thinks, walking over to take a seat in what feels like an almost uncomfortable but discreet interrogation. "If your dad feels it is amusing to share something private that was between us, that's on him."

The table bursts into laughter and she keeps herself stoically composed. "We're all family here," Eric manages to say between breaths.

"Yes, I know."

"I bet Auntie Mare was cringing watching you chug." April peers between her father and brother while Sarah begins buttering toast from the middle of the table. "I can just imagine Uncle Mark's face and poor Eliza cowering behind him." She mimes a scared face, peeking up between her hands like a dog.

Sarah keeps her back straight, eyes on her food. "I'm glad you find this funny."

"It's fucking hilarious."

"April, don't swear."

"Alright, leave it now," Jack mutters from across the table.

"Okay, mommy's boy." The attitude of their daughter is grating. "Go get yourself laid or something. There's always some sincere stick shoved up your ass."

Sarah puts down her knife, snapping her head to her daughter next to her. "Enough." She, of all people, should know the consequences of drinking and remember exactly what Sarah had to deal with on a regular basis. But it seems her ignorant daughter couldn't care less.

April merely flicks her hair, nonchalantly commenting, "Don't tell me what to do."

"Bitch," Jack rolls the word off his tongue, hissing it hatefully towards his sister. "You gonna let her talk to mom like this?" he asks Eric.

"April shut your fucking mouth." Their father speaks but it falls on deaf ears. His heart wasn't in his warning as he brushes the handle of his mug with a bored expression.

"What? We can't have a laugh over mom's frosty heart as she bleeds for Jack being sent to a death camp?" Their daughter imposes herself more over the table, trying to get somebody to agree.

"You over exaggerate and are beginning to set the rumors true for the color of your hair, blondie. Zip it. Fucking stitch it shut for more than five minutes," Eric sighs.

"You've gone soft, old man. For reputation's sake, I'd be keeping a check on it." April's gone too far and Sarah looks up to Eric in a flash, his expression forming into something lethal. That wasn't a subject to be poked and whatever is about to come out of his mouth isn't going to be good. So, as always, she stands up, trying to take the attention away...

"Go to work, all of you, ple-" Her efforts are useless as Eric pushes the entire table, pointing a tensed finger at their daughter, and Jack leaves knowingly.

"Get the fuck out of here _now_!" He follows April all the way to her bedroom, a string of shouted abuse until she's almost in tears, then she ducks her way past him to the front door. Some things are hissed so quietly and so darkly, Sarah couldn't make out exactly what he was saying.

The moment she leaves, he turns around, completely livid, red in the face, and his eyes blown. "It's not nice, is it?" Sarah leaves it as that, beginning to tidy the table.

"Fucking little bitch. Ignorant, selfish, little cunt of a daughter. You know what they say about her?" Now he hovers over her shoulder, following her to the kitchen and back again.

"Nothing would surprise me. And I'd rather not know. I want to keep my image of her untainted."

"They say wild. That there is nothing she hasn't done."

Sarah can't help herself, turning to him and stopping them both in their tracks. "And whose fault is that? And I bet if that was the rumor on Jack you'd be giving him a damned reward for it!"

"Oh, we going to go at each other's throats too?" He tilts his head and she hates it when he does that in such an aggressive manner.

"I just want you to take some responsibility other than what suits you. But like you said, we are done with this conversation, Eric. Maybe once Jack is out of the way, all your attention can be on setting April on the straight and narrow, giving her just a tiny piece of inspiration other than to chase boys and stay out all night drinking." She takes a step forward but he doesn't move. "Do you know that most nights I hold her hair back? The sweetest girl, so innocent, so tired of this-this _unrewarded_ life she has. But no, you pick on Jack, force him… The balance should be equal! You can run an entire faction but _my god_ you are weak when it comes to your children!" She pants for not having taken one breath while he stands motionless, still forever glaring and teeth grinding, but motionless nonetheless. "Don't you blame me!" She searches his face but there is nothing. "Don't you dare!" She pushes him, an act so unusual. She may as well have been pushing the wall but she tries again anyway, giving up for a swift thump on his chest.

"Are you finished?" Eric eventually asks.

"No," she pants, wetting her lips and pushing her hair back. "Okay, yes." Peering around her to the kitchen counters and then the room, it's eerily silent. The moment she looks back up into his eyes, she notices his anguish has melted away. "Stop it." He has that playful look on his face just before he was about to pounce. "Eric…" She tries to sound authoritative, backing her way around the island of the kitchen, eventually bumping into the table the other side.

"Don't run away now, shorty." He stalks towards her and she gasps as he pushes her backward, his hands steady on her hips, his mouth violently pressed to hers before she could take another breath. Landing on top of the table with a clutter, pushing whatever was left carelessly to one side, Sarah is already working her dress jacket off while he fumbles at his belt. It's a rush of urgency, only breaking away for her to pull her underwear to one side for him then to align the head of his cock to fit warmly between her legs. He thrusts forwards and stops to her yelp, receiving a slap across his face.

"And you were doing so well with that mouth of yours," he mocks her, tonguing his cheek.

It's always the same. And they both knew this. She draws him back with the same spiteful hand and they kiss slowly. "I didn't mean to yell at you," she whispers, her hands skimming the buzzed-cut hair at the back of his head.

"I know… She was baiting, like always."

"You're too easy to get a rise from."

"And you're not, and that's why when you do, I want to be in you." She opens her mouth to reply but he puts his finger up to her lips. "Shh, sweetheart, I'm busy here."

"You're a mean man."

"Know it."

* * *

Two days later and still no apology from April. Eric fairs no better either. Their home is lifeless with two entities avoiding each other; one enters, one leaves. They are equally just as stubborn. But Sarah can't think too much about it because today is the day Jack leaves.

The warehouse has a buzz of excitement; multiple trucks being loaded, loud voices drifting over one another, willing faces ready to venture into new territory. - All but one. The discontentment is written as plain as day on Jack's face. Only Sarah sees it, only a mother knows unsaid troubles. She watches him from a distance, Eric holding his son's shoulder, drilling in whatever he can while he nods occasionally. He had a rucksack on the floor, filled with needed personal items and equipment, the same one like everybody else that was leaving.

With her hood pulled, she tells herself over and over not to cry. It's not for her sake, but for him; she didn't want to embarrass him and Eric, not in this busy place. But it's hard to hold it together when he eventually looks up at her, shouldering his bag with his dad in tow, making his way over.

"I'll be back before you know it." Jack half-smiles when he reaches her, peering at her hands twisting the sleeves of her long jacket.

Jack's a tall boy, signified in the moment she reaches out for him, pulling him down by the neck and into her arms, squeezing him so tight he groans; all while balancing on her tiptoes. "Don't forget to call us every day." She pulls back to touch his face. "Have you got everything? Just don't do anything stupid. Don't drink or smoke. Keep with your group. You ring your dad-"

"Mom…" he embarrassingly scoffs, peering over his shoulder. "I'm good, don't worry." She hugs him strongly one last time, and finally, lets him go…

It's blurry while watching Jack shake Eric's hand and, as per usual, his dad giving him a soft clap on the back. It's almost murky to hear Eric speak to him over the starting truck engines saying, "Focus, don't look back" - for whose sake, she didn't know. She almost can't feel Eric's hand in hers as she watches her firstborn walk away with his head down, hop into the truck, and disappear inside.

Everything is numb. But there is a voice, a slight pain while the hand holding hers tightens when the trucks begin to roll off. "Keep it together, sweetheart." The trucks vanish from sight, leaving a dusty and quiet warehouse with a dozen or so people left. Sarah can't help but look at her husband with utter loathing, snapping her hand away to which he kisses his teeth and peers off to the side.

"If anything happens…" she warns him. "I will _never_ forgive you." Be it spur of the moment or what she truly thought, either way, she needed to vent her whole-hearted disagreement with this decision. She leaves him there, walking quickly off before she broke to pieces in front of him. He can do that damn warehouse report himself.


	3. Chapter 3

The factionless camp is a plot just outside of Amity. It's pretty large, spread with brick houses from old buildings as far as the eye could see. It had its own guarded entrance, the dauntless camps made from dark green tarpaulin tents starting from either side of it and running parallel to a flimsy wire fencing. Jack remembers the debate on whether they needed to be fenced in anymore. It seemed as though anyone could scale it if they tried; even a small child, and the factionless plowed the fields of Amity freely during the day anyway.

The reason why Eric hadn't authorized to lower the fences, is because he thought that if the did, it would give the Factionless ideas on becoming a whole independent unit - and he didn't want that, not from people who he saw as wastes of space. He said 'oppression with a society like theirs was vital', and stuck by it. Though, he could agree that their help in Amity made the seasonal weather changes and the forever increasing requests on produce far easier to maintain and reach each year.

"Assholes and elbows, everybody out!" A senior officer commands at the back of the truck once they come to a stop. It's every man for himself, everybody rushing to grab their equipment and exit without being the last.

Jack is marched with the other new faces to a freshly bleached-smelling tent with cots of beds lined symmetrically either side. Men and women shared; not that that was unusual. Everything is basic, everything is bland, and it is cold. Jack breathes in deeply, trying to forget the ebbings of homesickness already cursing him, and locates a bed.

"Consider yourselves lucky with having the rest of the day off. We rise at zero-six-hundred hours!"

Next to each bed, they are given a small line of drawers for their things and a dim lamp which was already on for their arrival. Jack decides it's best to settle himself in, make it as comfortable as possible, put his clothes away at the very least. Dumping his rucksack on the bed, he begins unfastening the straps.

"You're the Coulter's boy." An unfamiliar voice has Jack peer up to a guy probably younger than him. He appears to be claiming the cot directly next to his, but facing him from across his bed, nonchalantly copying with unpacking.

"It that obvious?"

The guy studies him closer. "Your shoulder-width sure says so."

Jack smiles to himself. If only he knew though how much he loathed his father's influence over him. "You already know who I am then, is there any point in introducing myself?"

"No, Jack," the guy jokes. "The names Ryan but I go by Chip too." Jack's frown is so unique to his father and it urges Chip to continue. "Chipped my bottom tooth when I hit the net the moment I jumped into Dauntless. It's quite a funny story actually. As I landed, my first flew up weirdly into my mouth with the momentum and tapped my bottom tooth. Usually it's the top, but no, nothing is ever normal for me."

"I can relate to that," Jack mentions.

"I called out something like 'I chipped my tooth!' and they wrote down Chip. Voila."

"They didn't let me choose a new name. It was already Jack the moment I jumped." And if he had his second chance, he'd call himself Ardvard to really piss his dad off. He keeps himself concentrated on folding his clothes and putting them in the drawers so he couldn't show his frustration.

"You also didn't choose to be here, did you?"

Jack doesn't like the fact his emotions must be so readable, narrowing his eyes at this chatterbox next to him.

"Fine, I'll keep my mouth shut." Chip puts his hands up in apology. "I won't talk anymore and let you fester."

At the bottom of Jack's rucksack, he pulls out his headphones at long last, placing them over his ears and playing music while falling back on top of the sheets, covering his eyes with his forearm.

Chip merely scoffs and shakes his head. If he wanted to sulk for his entire time here, it's going to be a really long month for him.

* * *

Sundays are usually Eric's day off. He'd maybe go to the gym for a little longer than usual, eat with his family at lunchtime, cut his hair, watch Sarah in the shower, maybe toss himself off afterward with plans to screw her later. But no. It's different today, and for the first time, he doesn't know whether he should continue on with the usual by the way Sarah blanks him.

He doesn't like it.

He watches her flit through the kitchen, cleaning each surface twice; even after she touched or moved anything. He even watches her fill the washing machine with annoyance while his coffee grows cold on the table in front of him.

Eventually, April brings the distraction he needs. In baggy sweats, she places herself next to him with some terribly pale face. He pushes his cold coffee towards her. "Heat it for me," he commands. She does groan in agitation but does it none the less, only to slouch back next to him straight after.

"Mom, I need something to eat." April uses her whiny, soppy voice full with hopefulness.

Sarah barely looks at her. "Do it yourself."

Eric and April share a glance. He then lifts his chin, taking a breath before speaking. "I think the kitchen is clean, sweetheart."

"It won't clean itself. And April, before you go anywhere, you _will_ tidy your room." Sarah still doesn't acknowledge them when she passes, disappearing into Jack's vacant bedroom.

"Don't tell me she's sulking over Jack actually doing something with his life," April whispers, beginning to lean forward tiredly on her forearms. Eric whacks her to make her sit up straight.

"You were drinking last night?" he asks.

"Of course." She yawns and it pisses him off. "It _was_ Saturday night."

"Cut your shitty attitude, go shower, and then go to the gym. You've missed breakfast which is your own damn fault." He sips the coffee quickly. "And that means now, blondie."

Whether his daughter sensed the tense atmosphere or not, he's more than happy she doesn't serve him backchat. He couldn't deal with her mouth and a wife that has legit gone crazy, and by the sounds of it - throwing the vacuum against any solid surface she could possibly find.

April doesn't shower, leaving the apartment exaggeratingly yawning no more than five minutes later with her hair in a bun and a large sweatshirt, casually mumbling, "Chow for now."

Still festering in domestic annoyance, he notices the cable of the vacuum is plugged in the hall, so he casually strolls over and kicks it out, ceasing the endless white noise. As Sarah appears, he smiles viciously. "It's me." She doesn't share his enthusiasm and as she turns he grabs her arm. "What are you doing, Sarah? You're stressing over nothing."

"I'm keeping myself busy." Her cheeks are flushed pink, hair stuck to her forehead. It's in her eyes though that he can see everything that she's not saying. She actually looks kind of repulsed by him - that's not entirely unusual...

"You want to-"

"Haven't you got somewhere to be?" Sarah's so blunt it takes him by surprise. She plugs the vacuum back in and he pulls it out like a spoilt child.

"You don't want me here, fine. I get it. Be angry at me all you like but it's not going to change anything. Fucking deal with it." She ignores him, the worst thing she could possibly do. "I'll go fucking _somewhere_ else!" He flings his hands up exaggeratedly in the air while storming to the bedroom to grab his jacket and collect his phone. He's still putting it on when he reappears, just as, she again, plugs the vacuum in and disappears into Jack's room.

That's when he loses it.

This was always a problem. He was two sides of a coin; one shiny, one in absolute filth that no amount of soaking could clean. He never thought about what he did before he did it, and could never confess the guilt he would feel afterward.

Eric yanks on the stretched cord that lead into the room, not realizing his strength as the vacuum comes crashing out of it, and Sarah lands on all fours in the doorway.

She was fucking holding it.

"Sarah, shit I-" He steps closer as she rolls back onto her ass and leans against the inside wall.

"Get out." It's whispered so low he doesn't know whether he thought it instead. She wipes at her face, still not able to look at him. "Get out, Eric." The calmness of her voice is more threatening and telling than her words.

He wanted to stay and argue. He wanted to try and get through to her that this wasn't anything to be worried over. He wanted to say he was sorry and imagined them forgiving each other and moving on. Instead, he does nothing and leaves his little wife be, along with a small fearful voice nagging in one ear that perhaps this was beginning to spiral out of control - out of his control. And he had no idea what he could do about it.

* * *

Wedged into a communal shower, the water running black beneath their feet, Jack still finds himself chuckling from time to time. The steam creates a mist high above their heads, voices echoing. He couldn't have found better people to be with if he tried. Their team effortlessly formed a unique friendship in just one day alone.

"It's supposed to be the introductory day, instead my ass has been flogged worse than my initiation. In fact, worse than anything I've done yet." Chip scrubs at the thick lines of dirt under his chin with a bar of soap. "I can take beatings, yelling, gun practice for hours on end, but those fields are something else. Those Amity's must be ripped."

Jack lets the water pour over his head for a long while as Chip continues rattling on next to him. His eyes slide to the right feeling eyes on him. He's being watched unsubtly by a girl maybe a year younger, freely letting him see everything; the way her hair drenched over her shoulders and leading to her breasts, the toned abdomen glistening under the water. She smiles at him once he realizes he is staring a little too long and he forcibly smiles back before turning his head to the wall in front of him.

"You have interest…" Chip whispers suggestively.

Jack merely rubs a hand through his short hair, clearing any shampoo left. "Nah…" he drawls. "I need to focus."

"She _really_ likes you." Chip is making this conversation too obvious by continuously glancing over to her as he turns under the water. "Jennifer or Jenny, I think she goes by."

"She could be called ketchup for all I care."

"You got a girl back home?"

Jack shuts off the shower, grabbing his towel hanging next to him and wrapping it around his waist. "No," he snaps a little harshly. "I wasn't sent here to pick up girls."

His friend shrugs. "May as well have some fun while you're here though, right? Maybe you should-"

"Maybe you should keep your mouth shut." Snatching up the bottles of his shampoo from home, he looks Chip right in the eye. "Concentrate on your own business, not mine."

Again, his friend finds himself holding his hands up. "Jeez, okay…" And Chip watches Jack leave. "Chill…" He shrugs to the girl who disappointedly looks away.

* * *

Sarah's too busy in her preparation for her second meeting with Erudite; papers fanned around her in the boardroom, to notice Blake Hammond watching her from the open doorway.

There's a bit of a ruckus from the other meeting rooms and offices; people skimming past, so she doesn't have the sense to look. But he does. He watches her bite the end of her pen, then down to a flattering pair of heels, letting his eyes run up her patterned stockings to the hemline of the classical A-cut dress she wears that had risen up ever so slightly.

"Knock knock."

Sarah jumps, her head jerking over towards him. "Oh, Mr Hammond!"

As she stands to shake his hand, he smiles pleasantly at her, closing the door behind him. "Please, call me Blake."

"Betty was supposed to fetch me when you had arrived. I'm sorry…" she trails off as he rushes to pull out the chair for her to sit back down, grabbing the seat closest to her for himself.

"I hope you don't mind, but I told her not to bother. Seemed a little too formal." He remembers the folders in his hand and places them in front of him. "The plans have been drawn."

"That's brilliant."

"It took a while as something far more important came to my attention. Regardless, I tried to get them drawn up as soon as I possibly could because of the issues we had in the last meeting; a lack of information, and I didn't want it to appear any less important or as if I am wasting your time."

Sarah shakes her head. "I wouldn't worry."

"Good. Well, I'll dive right in. Of course, I am here for the preparation of the expansion, but also-"

"It still hasn't been decided if this is actually going to go ahead yet," she reminds him. The last thing she wanted was him to ride too high on his horse.

She expects some sort of subtle tantrum, but instead, he graces her with one of his unique smiles and unnerving her to no end with a confident stare. "That's a given." His words are too smooth, too low. She eventually has to clear her throat and focuses on the papers in front of her. "What I _was_ going to say, is that there is a more damning problem I've stumbled across. It's not the most pleasant of subjects, but I think you will agree that is indeed the most urgent." Blake pulls out a small-scale map and passes it to her.

It's a complete maze of runways and the layout of the factions. It's hard to distinguish exactly what he is referring to. She hates to admit it. "What am I looking for? You can't expect me to see what you see by handing me an unnoted map, Mr Hammond." Sarah lays it flat to allow him to clue her in.

A smirk plays on his lips that she doesn't see as he leans closer. "Our three factions; Erudite, Dauntless, and Candor have the same waste system under the cities grounds. Abnegation's is veered off on a single system on a much smaller scale, and Amity runs with the land in the opposite direction."

"...Okay."

"The system has sat underneath us for countless years, adapted to our city." With his two index fingers, he positions off a section on the map. "The problem is here. This is the evacuation."

"That's beyond the wall."

"Yes. It's collapsed," Blake states clearly. "We need to close it off and redirect it… _here_ ," he points it out. "Before we have a sanitary crisis."

Sarah now believes she is not fit to deal with Erudite and wishes Eric took this damn project on. "This is a state of affairs that needs to be considered by all the factions. This isn't an individual problem we can head all the decisions for." It's the best response she can come up with under the pressure.

"Your husband, Mrs Coulter, is certainly one person who can head this movement, or at the very least brandish it vital. I mentioned this in a briefing, and it's actually humorous if I think about it, but the people of Erudite are calling for me to front the repairs and take over some of the cities responsibilities." He leans back in his chair and puts a hand to his chest. "I don't want to encroach on your husband's domain. Believe me, I really _really_ don't. I'm new to this game and my persistence was fighting for what my faction wanted. But this is beyond what we want. This affects multiple factions. I'm just the nose who stumbled upon it."

Sarah swallows dryly. "So, what do you want me to do about it?" With such a harsh question, she still manages to make it sound pleasant. "Surely if it was that important you would insist on meeting with Eric?"

"I just assumed Erudite business is run through you now. You were both adamant." Blake is leaning so far back in his chair with a look of expectancy; as if she was about to suggest something completely miraculous. Sarah only feels like she is floundering.

"I will speak with Eric. I'll make it a priority." Even she doesn't recognize her own voice, and with his twitching lips, he also knows that she is at a loss.

"Photos!" Blake suddenly remembers. "I took the opportunity to gain photographic evidence so there is no delay - unlike the last problem we had. A lady like yourself shouldn't have to venture to the source of the sewers, ma'am."

"That's very considerate of you." As she studies the photos of what looks the mouth of a cave crumbling on one side, she feels his stare.

"Myriad…" he suddenly mumbles causing Sarah to slowly peer up at him.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going to name the expansion and new parts of the buildings Myriad. I may even name the entire project that. Has a better ring to it, wouldn't you say?" he asks. She is at a loss for words. He chuckles before adding, "...Almost like the shade of your eyes, what a coincidence. All the myriad shades of blue." She can't help but blush, her cheeks tinging noticeably pink. "I'm sorry if I have embarrassed you. I just found it quite fitting. Screams Erudite, don't you think?"

"Shall we concentrate on the blueprints for the expansion?" Sarah rushes.

"Certainly." Blake flicks through his papers. "And shall we name the sewer problem Roses?" he mumbles with his eyes still downturned to the sheets in front of him. "I have never been taken with the smell of them."

"That's a matter of perception."

While she is blunt; her tone anything other than amused, he seems to be. "You're very much right."

* * *

"This guard malarky is a piece of piss," Chip comments while they watch the buzz of factionless life from inside the pathetic excuse of a fence. "Do you ever think, when the factions were being made, Amity was truly the leftovers; you know, like factionless, so they made another faction to accommodate."

Chip still peers off into the distance as Jack snaps his head over to him. "You know what, you think too much, that's your problem."

"But who really decided that? ...This _is_ the factions, we shall name them _this_ and stuff them with people with _these_ traits."

Jack kicks a stone out in front of him. "I… mate, I really don't care. What's done is done."

"What _do you_ care about?"

Now that is a tricky question. All of Jack's thoughts had been on showing he was just as capable as Eric thought. That he could survive without being close to home. And that he was eager to follow his father up the ladder to leadership like he always wanted.

That was a farce. Really in his mind, he'd gone along with it because after initiation and the build-up, life wasn't so planned out and simple as he thought. He wasn't satisfied. He didn't like the idea of leaving home at first but came to see it as a chance to find himself.

However, he still felt lost. "Surviving the month," seems to be the only logical reasoning he had at the moment. Steeling his jaw, he keeps his sight out in front of him.

"What's it like being a Coulter kid?" Chip continues regardless of his friend's hostile appearance.

"Privileged."

"And your mom's a Stiff. That's unusual-"

"Don't talk about my mom." He'd heard it all before; all the provoking insults, all the slurs against her, and it was partly why he said privileged; intentionally mocking himself over something that had been said before. They couldn't be any more wrong. "I'm out of here," he says suddenly, sauntering off towards the main gateway.

Chip looks to and fro between their small chosen group, signaling for them to stay there as he races to catch up. "That's against protocol! Jack, stop!"

"Stay here then. I'm still patrolling. I'm just doing it over there, through the woods." He smirks so much like his father over his shoulder. "Taking in the scenery." He thinks for a moment before adding, "Need a piss too." As long as Mark or their intakes instructor didn't see them, no one would bat an eyelid. They were too busy splintering the groups on different activities to pay much attention anyway.

While Jack walks calmly, Chip keeps throwing a look back to the camp, stumbling to keep up and steadying the gun hanging from his shoulder. "I swear, I will point fingers if they find out. I'm not lying, so don't expect me to."

"Whatever." Jack shrugs. They reach the tree line and he thunders straight through, finding a spot to unzip his flies. Whilst he's pissing, Chip is still a nervous wreck.

"What if there are people out here?"

In annoyance, Eric's son leans an arm against the tree, still occupied. " We shoot 'em. I don't know, depends."

"On what?"

Jack smiles to himself, zipping his flies and turning to his friend. "If they shoot at us first." He begins hacking his way through the undergrowth, ascending a natural bank with the sound of Chip clumsily following. Reaching the top, they come to a lazy pace and Chip soon begins to relax, only occasionally mumbling to himself.

Amity had it good, and so did the factionless now. Jack's mesmerized by the very tops of the trees swaying above him. Through the parting of them, small dashes of light were thrown down, highlighting bright blue and purple wildflowers. Below him, by his feet, moss grew on fallen logs, some type of mushroom clinging to the base of trees. In passing, he dipped his finger in the sap of a tree, memorizing the feel of the bark under his hand, the waxy layer on small leaves or the furs of the stems. Finally, he crouches down to the track of an animal, a content, honeyed smile on his face from the relaxing atmosphere around him. "The animals are still free, even behind the wall," he murmurs, completely forgetting that Chip is behind him.

"Thanks." Confused, Jack peers over to his laxed friend still standing, steadying his gun from swinging as he turned. His face must say 'For what?' because Chip runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair before continuing. "You made me remember that there is more than just us here." Jack doesn't reply, turning back to measure the size of the print to his outstretched hand. "That we're lucky to be here now. Well, I'm lucky. If you hadn't of wandered off I'd still be watching a dusty track road and rubbish skimming the floor." Jack stands up to look for a trail in hopes of finding whatever it was that had passed through there only shortly before they arrived.

"Stop talking. All anybody and everybody does these days is just talk; nonsense, shit, who has more than me, the weather. Be quiet."

"Be quiet and listen to nature," Chip suggests with a blissful sigh.

"No, just shut the fuck up. You don't have to listen or see or feel what is around you. A quiet mind brings it."

"Is that why you use headphones?" Chip asks.

"Does it matter at all why I really do anything?"

"You are the most wayward person I've ever met."

"And yet, you still talk endlessly to me."

Chip shrugs this time, peering down to the ground. "I didn't say it was a bad thing." Jack's eyes are a deep ocean when he decides to look back up from the forest floor to him, his expression altogether smothering what really rippled through his vast mind.

"We should head back." The tall Coulter boy stands to his full height but decides to walk side by side this time then trailing off ahead. They walk wordlessly, Chip having taken some incentive from their conversation. Descending the bank they had traveled across for a change of scenery, the break in the trees is ahead of them that would expose the furthermost corner of the factionless camp.

Jack turns his head to Chip as they walk out into the warm rays of the sun, and briefly smiles.

A few shots ping from the floor and off a nearby tree that startles them both, Chip throwing his hands up to a group of Dauntless they hadn't noticed. "Friendly!" he shouts at the top of lungs. "Jesus Christ!" he pants, nervous laughter breaking his composure, turning to Jack to comment.

Jack Coulter isn't looking at anything other than his hand pressed to his right shoulder, bringing it away to look at the crimson spilled between his fingers. "I'm hit. I'm hit. They shot me." His face blanches and he tips backward, losing his footing at the same time Chip grabs him.

"Man down!" Chip calls out to the Dauntless patrol, pulling the strap of Jack's gun from him and applying pressure, using most of his weight. "You're good, man, you're good." He pleads with the other patrol to hurry up with a swift glance then back to his fallen friend. "Just a flesh wound…" he comforts him.

* * *

Sarah doesn't know the people Eric is talking to. She allows distance between them while waiting for whatever conversation they are having to end. It's also not the first time in her life she has peered through the window of the gym and training room. Many years ago, when she was just a girl of eighteen, she remembers coming to find Eric here. It's a weird sensual feeling; a fleeting moment of familiarity, all that might have lived before deemed itself suddenly brand new. She wanted to believe the fingerprints in the dust of the small lip of seal of the window were hers. It was a strangely comforting idea.

When Eric dismisses the conversation, that's when she makes her break. It's a sullen, sweaty smell and lighting, various grunts from around the room that she ignores. Eric sees her coming, opting to drop the weights into their holder after only seconds of using them and shows his broad back and admirable lines that she knew of that still managed to pang the small muscles in her stomach.

He's somewhat breathless when he turns and puts balled fists onto his hip, his vest considerably loose around his neck and a stain of sweat looping down his chest. "Wife," he addresses her, but it's not exactly kind.

"There's… some things we need to talk about. I was hoping to catch you in your office but…" Her brows furrow, glancing at anything but him and crushing the folders to her chest. "...you weren't there, so I thought you'd be here. So now I'm here."

"Well, that ain't obvious," he snorts to himself.

"It's something very important. Erudite want some answers-"

"Fuck Erudite. I'm not in the mood to talk right now." He casually bats the air, opting to sort through the weights and lifts one in practice. "I'm done with work today. I _actually_ thought you may just want to speak to me in general because you've barely uttered a word for a day or so. _That_ was a stupid fucking idea obviously."

"I'm trying-"

"It seems I'm always fucking trying but it's like hitting a steel _gray_ wall."

Sarah sighs through her nose. "Please don't talk over me."

"Well, I'm getting bored of it. I'm bored of this - shitty tip-toeing." He scoffs to himself. "In fact, I can't even tip-toe, my shoulders are too bogged down with other people's shit and attitudes, along with your…" He flicks a hand up and down her. "Personal issues, or whatever the fuck this is. A day is enough. This is enough."

" _This_ is enough?"

"Yeah," he calls out over his shoulder. "It is." But he's beginning to sound less confident, trying fruitlessly to distract himself with a plain stand of weights.

Sarah drops the folder from Erudite to the floor. "Then I have had enough of this." As she turns he's quick to close the distance and grabs her arm, dragging her back as she fights feebly, her heels scuffing the floor.

"Don't walk away from me."

"Then don't expect me to deal with things the way you do. This may not be a big deal for you, but you could respect me enough, at least, to comprehend exactly how I'm feeling." She shrugs his hand off of her in a final act of defiance. But before she can fathom what he's doing, he bends down and scoops up her foot, removing her heel and forcing her to cling onto him with her balance off. "Eric! What!"

"I don't like these." He inspects the shoe, then flippantly lobs it over his shoulder.

Sarah purses her lips, poking at his piercings above his brow while kicking off the other shoe to regain her balance. "I don't like _that_!"

Eric pulls her hair out. "I don't like that fucking bun, never have, and you _still_ wear it more often than not." He smirks incredibly close to her face, probably intending to intimidate her.

"Your hair looks stupid longer. Cut it," she pants with the command, blowing hair from her face.

"The thing you do with your eyebrow is condescending," he mentions and she has no idea what he's talking about. What thing?

"Oh, you're a fine one to talk! Your nostrils flaring are... are." Her nose scrunches up and she continuously stutters.

"Sarah syndrome strikes again," he claims. "But while we're being utterly honest…" his voice drops low and he leans more into her space. "I have to admit, I like it when you do that."

"Don't patronize me! Don't glide your way out of this with your scrambled words…" She looks to his arms. "...and body. That's not how these things work."

"How _do_ these things work? _What_ fucking _things_?" Only minutely he glances behind her, then licks his lips. "...You, er, you checking me out?" Sarah glances behind her to a group of people leaving, and then at the clock above the door. The large room has grown vacant, probably completely aware of Eric and his wife bickering and opting to leave.

"No, Eric." She waggles a finger, backing up, still barefoot and hair loose. She knew what he was doing; he was twisting this conversation, distracting her. "Don't!" Sarah hits a stand of exercise equipment behind her. Scrabbling around it, she makes it only to the nearest pillar that ran parallel throughout the large room.

She would gasp if she had time. His hands clamp onto her upper arms, spinning her, pushing her hard enough against the pillar to keep her pinned, but not enough to hurt. "I saw your email about whether I'd spoken to Jack. I have." He eases up a little, his words softer than before and eyes searching; a sense of normality settling as they stared at each other. "You could've asked me that yourself."

"But we had a fight…" She says delicately, tilting her head in a way Eric loved. A fleeting image of a time when Sarah was younger ignites his blood.

"I don't know whether this is obvious to you by now or not, but I fight with everybody." He twirls a strand of her hair around his larger fingers, stroking the side of her cheek, then neck and shoulder, brushing down her cleavage for a moment. "You trust me, don't you? You trust me to look out for our son and do what's best? Let me take some pressure away from you."

Sarah tries to look away but can't help fluttering back up to him. "That's the thing, Erudite-"

"Fuck Erudite for tonight. Tell me first thing tomorrow. Just tell me what I want to hear now."

She rubs her lips together before answering, "Okay, I trust you." And his smile is radiant. But as she leans towards him, her head cradled sweetly against his chest with strong arms binding around her, that radiant smile drops.

Maybe he should have mentioned that it wasn't really Jack who he spoke to, but Mark. That there had been an incident where Jack was shot from friendly fire and their son was extremely lucky that the bullet went straight through, missing his vitals, and currently residing in Amity's infirmary.

Instead, Eric stares out from over the top of her head with a dead expression, knowing that he lied so dishonourably, and says nothing.

* * *

A/N:

Apologies for any grammar mistakes, my Beta abandoned me, with no food or water... :P


	4. Chapter 4

The only thing comforting, is that Sarah seems slightly more at peace than usual. Her body is tucked warmly up against Eric in bed while he lays on his back, arm wedged beneath his head, watching her sleep. The apartment is silent, a cautioning reminder of the passive lie that spilled from his lips earlier.

As per usual, he'd easily shoved the thought from mind; going about his business, seducing his wife from the after tremors of utter depravity. But here, in this instant, it shouted louder. Eric chews his lip, becoming agitated with the inability to sleep as soundly as the person clutching onto him. But he needed to do this; to be in this open position to console his constantly worrying spouse.

Some things were harder to rid of than others. And in all the years, being the honest and open person of compassion he knew Sarah didn't really expect but no doubt wished he could be, had never changed him. They opted to fall into unsaid roles. Rules, boundaries, and protection, he offered without say. Sarah was the one for honesty, advice, the one who listened beyond anything. Eric would teach the kids to fight, and Sarah would wipe their tears. He would tell them war-stories and theories, where Sarah told fairy tales. He found it difficult to hurdle from Leader to parent where she had no difficulty shutting out what didn't really matter.

He sounds jealous. And maybe he is to a degree. Simply because he really can't rid of something that is dug so deep that even though the outer layer of its scars had disappeared, the skin underneath remained dormant but affected. Eric couldn't change everything that made him who he is.

Some of his love that he displayed could be called into question on whether it was taught rather than something that came from the soul, perhaps habit. It was something to fear, a new fear. He feared Sarah would tire, or more precisely, _had_ been tiring of him. A change in their habitual lives, the one he has created, he thought would enhance their shambling and recently slackened pace in marriage.

Before it was easy, years ago, when the children were younger and Sarah had them as her sole focus. If it wasn't the kids, it was what they needed in their home to make it theirs. If it wasn't decorating, it was guiding her side of the family. If it wasn't family, her focus was on him and what he was doing in his career. She was occupied, busy - and glumly he thinks to himself, happy. Now it was different. They didn't want or need anything because he'd made damn sure that they didn't go without. And it was to a point that he thought that perhaps it was maybe too much, he'd dulled their sense of worth, laid an easy walk-way to old age.

Eric shudders physically.

Before Erudite started sniffing around, Sarah had been nothing more than an honoured version of Betty, watching her children become more independent without the need for her. And if she thought for a minute he didn't notice her spiralling helplessly, without something to focus on, he would openly allow her to call him a dumb cunt.

The line of thought lingers on what he explained to Jack - some needed a push, some didn't. It is, however, almost laughable that every time he needed to push Sarah, it backfired terribly; and Jack becoming injured within the first week of guard duty was a severe example. Was he that much of a monster that things would fuck up whenever it had to do with the most important things in his life? Did he - because of the nagging inner monster - purposefully, yet utterly unknowingly, fuck things up for the sake of it?

A cluttering bang comes from the hallway, just outside the bedroom door. Sarah's body tenses up beside him, moving automatically to sit up, but instead, Eric lays a hand on her shoulder, steadying her and sitting himself up to her eye level.

"It's April," she tells him, a crack of sleep in her voice.

Eric cups the side of her face and pulls her towards his lips, mildly letting them touch, keeping his expression intentionally soft. "I'll go." Sarah is beautiful like this; unembellished, and every ounce of retaliation drained from the day. Her smile is gentle and warming, satisfied with this subtle act of parenting. If only she knew that it was out of guilt.

She seems to think about it for a long second, her mouth still pulled into a heart-warming smile as an "Okay," slips through her lips. The white sheets pulled up against her body as she lays her head back down onto the pillow are almost the same sensational color of her skin. He takes the opportunity to trace his fingers along the curvature of her hip before throwing his legs down and fetching his boxers, roughly yanking them up his legs. Sarah's eyes linger on the permanently etched swirling patterns of names on his body for every person he cared for the most. And as he passes, he grabs her feet for staring too long.

Eric yawns carelessly once out of the room, making sure to shut the door behind him. He rubs at his chest tiredly, tracing to the light at the end of the hall that was April and Jack's shared bathroom.

"Mom?" April whispers into the bowl of the toilet, retching still, obviously sensing the shadow appearing timely in the doorframe.

"No," Eric states casually, watching her glance up to him then back down in her sickness haze.

"Where's mom?" She scratches at the toilet roll hanging beside her, pulling on it and unravelling it messily to wipe her mouth.

"Mom's tired of this shit," he sighs, perching himself on the edge of the bath and crossing his arms. "I'm tired of this shit," he speaks listlessly. "Everyone's tired of this shit. Are you not tired of this shit, April?"

"Just go away!"

Ignoring her, he continues. "You have a drinking problem, or, you are a stupid, standard, drama-seeking individual and the only way to get the attention of your mom without dropping your false, hardened exterior, is to drink."

"If you're not helping, go away!"

"Of course, I'm not fucking helping you. You got yourself in this state, you can deal with it. It's pretty amusing to watch. Do we only get the liberty of seeing you like this? Does no one else know?"

"Fuc-" April has barely any time to finish because Eric grabs the back of her hair and pushes her face down into the toilet, her arms bracing either side to stop him but she is easily overpowered.

"This. Stops. Now." Eric keeps her there, tightening his hold against her scalp for only a grunt in answer. "Obviously letting this faze run its course isn't helping. Trying to speak to you about it is out of the question. Your reputation is at an all-time low. Your work is poor. Your respect is non-existent…"

"Dad-" He shakes her head for good measure, and to stop whatever bullshit was about to spill from her mouth.

"If this happens again; if you speak to me or your Mom like shit again, if you don't turn up for work, if you even so roll your eyes at me, I will make you eat what is in this bowl. Do you understand?" The threat has suddenly sobered her, and he releases her the moment she agrees with a shaky nod. "What was it you said?" Eric crouches down to her level as she leans back against the sink unit, staring up with wide eyes and tears streaking her face. "I better check myself because I'm losing it? Or something along those lines anyway." Eric loosens his expression, touching her head with a fatherly tenderness. "Trust me, you don't want me to _check_ myself."

April nods silently in understanding.

* * *

" _Sarah is not to know_ …" Mark says firmly over the phone to Mary as she stands in the middle of the dining room, Anna seated at the table waiting to begin work that morning. Briefly she looks to her, then to a plain spot of the wall again.

"She's my sister-"

" _Eric has told me not to even mention it to you. I could get into real trouble._ " The sound of wind rustles from his end of the line, smothering his voice for a moment.

"Sarah knew this was a bad idea. She just knew."

" _She couldn't know it would be the hundred in one chance of being shot by friendly fire. There has been no incidents apart from this one time a Coulter touches the ground in Amity_."

Torn, she opts to change the subject a little. "How is Jack?"

" _Well, all things considering. It could've been a lot worse_."

"I guess he'll be sent home?"

There's a hesitation from Mark which already makes her think otherwise. " _He's to stay here. Once back on his feet he'll be watching from a distance. Hopefully healed by the time the month is up_."

"How can I face her knowing what I know. She'll ask me if I have spoken to you. I can't lie, Mark."

" _Play the fool_ ," he suggests. " _If you say you don't know, then you're only telling a white lie. It's for her peace of mind at the end of the day_."

"It's to save that barbaric brother-in-law of mine's skin!" she erupts angrily, scaring Anna. "Please tell me you would never keep anything from me, not like that."

" _I promise_." From his side, it becomes loud with other people talking. " _I've got to go. Hug Eliza for me. I love you_."

"I love you, too," she replies sadly. Turning back to Anna, the girl asks her if she is okay by signing with her hands. "I'm fine. But nothing leaves this room." She chews her lip for only a moment. "Right, let's get to work."

* * *

Eric is not avoiding Sarah, so he tells himself. He watches her from across the Mess Hall with that irritating friend Stacey. What they are talking about he has no idea, but it's expressive on Stacey's behalf as his wife blossoms next to her in a fit of laughter.

He hasn't touched the food in front of him; three chicken breasts and a pile of broccoli especially ordered by him from the day before. He's merely letting the fork stab the broccoli multiple times while lost in thought as he is joined by people, one being Glen slipping in beside him.

"Get your protein in, mate. Your gains are screaming for it," Glen comments, already shoving in a mouthful. When Eric doesn't reply, he halts. "What's gone wrong?"

"Did you know we have a potential faction disaster right under our noses?" Eric asks a question he knew the answer to, already having gone over Sarah's paperwork from Erudite. "That it's a sanitary problem. That it affects three factions, one being ourselves?"

"I… I haven't seen any reports?" Glen scratches his head in thought.

"I haven't sent it out yet. I got around to reading it only about half an hour before lunch. Lost my appetite." Eric still watches Sarah in the distance as he speaks. The sewers weren't the only thing clogging up his stomach. "What are we thinking about this Blake guy? You got anything on him."

"Briefly looked him up the first day he arrived. Studious guy, involved with architecture, an endless list in mumbo jumbo science, of course. Elected into a top position recently. Good with people, apparently. Pretty straight-laced guy on paper."

Eric hums in response. "Anything from Candor?"

"Eating out the palm of our hands. No worries there. I think if we delay our decision a little it will coerce them into siding completely with us. They want the attraction to their faction, we've got what they want. Easy deal. Unless… you're thinking of backing out?" Glen tilts his head questioningly and Eric finally breaks his stare from across the room, digging into the now cold chicken.

"If they think I will shut down the policing faction's primary containment unit, they really are as dumb as I think."

"They won't like it."

"I'm not completely leaving them out though…" Eric continues over the top of Glen. "They can have an overflow unit for the time being, so they see we are true to our word for now."

"A placebo? Nice."

"Not entirely. It's fit to work, but whether it's used…" He smirks at him. "I couldn't say." Eric pours himself a drink, pausing for a moment. "The Erudite issue was mainly a palm off to Sarah while we worked on factional trust issues. It's become more complicated…" he trails off, wary of sharing his thoughts. "I want a team sent down to check it out for ourselves."

"You think it's dodgy, boss?"

"Trust your own nose, not that of others. Let's see how genuine our Erudite friend is." Sarah catches his eye again, and this time she notices him, fluttering her fingers in a graceful, shy wave; one he reciprocates to, looking a little foreign coming from his serious conversation and outer appearance.

"Our Erudite friend has a lot of lady admirers. Betty's swooning," Glen scoffs casually.

Eric sips his drink again, watching his wife turn away. He hadn't missed the part on the notes stating that Erudite wanted to view Blake as a permanent leader of their faction, or that they wanted to branch out and share the city's official duties with this up and coming young man.

A small sense of betrayal from years of gruelling personal work begins to burn deep in his gut. He _won't_ let that happen.

* * *

April has the effects of last night printed on her face; heavy bags, pale, feeling shaky as she crosses the pit. She ignores some friends that don't particularly notice her anyway, to her luck, and begins heading towards intelligence to take up a shift of surveillance for the afternoon to which she was informed of by her dad late that morning.

She kind of regrets goading him. She isn't stupid. She knew of stories about her father. Actually, she had wanted to see that almighty tyrant for the sake of its long-lived reputation. The endless taunts of an Abnegation mother had ultimately trimmed her wings with people born and raised into Dauntless, like she was a defect because of her genes. Yes, her mother wasn't all that bad and had been there for her when she needed her, but it didn't help the fact that she despised her for her kindness too. This was Dauntless, and any person could see that the woman didn't fit here, no matter how well Sarah did manage to blend in. It was a disgrace. It was pitiful of her father and a complete scandal.

"Ugh!" April hadn't been watching where she was going, flying straight into a tall man that steadies her with his hand on her shoulder. Naturally, she shrugs him off quickly. "Watch… it…" She loses her voice, staring up to the latest gossip, Mr Blake Hammond. From this view she could see now how the rumors of his attraction were true. He wasn't typically Erudite – apart from the navy long-tailed jacket and crisp shirt underneath. But it was his features; a dusting of facial hair, the short and tidy brown waves on his head gelled smartly to one side, the dark blue eyes that were almost black under the heavy Dauntless lighting, and his jaw line...

"Easy there. It was a mutual mistake, we both weren't particularly paying attention," he says with a chuckle.

April watches his lips as he talks – full lips. His shoulders are broad, his frame competing with a gym enthusiast. Did Erudite even have gyms? Shaking her head, she stammers, "Er… yeah." _Er, yeah? Seriously?_ Is that the best she could come up with? Licking her lips, she says, "Sorry. I was thinking… about surveillance terminology…" _Really April, really?_ She shifts from one foot to the other.

"Is that like, Tango, Bravo, Delta?"

She smiles. "Something like that."

Blake laughs. "Was I that bad?"

"You aren't winning any awards."

"Ah!" he exclaims. "But I already have." The young girl scrunches her face up in curiosity. "I've won your friendship."

If only he knew it was because he was good looking. "I suppose." She grins wickedly. "Can I help you at all?"

"I'm heading up to the infamous Leader's suite." His secretive eyes roam over her for a long moment, and he reaches out, stroking down a small piece of her hair. "I may be wrong, but you have a very familiar look about you." April blushes shamelessly from his touch. " _You_ are a Coulter."

"April Coulter."

"How rude, I should've asked for your name, but I guess it's because I'm merely male." She laughs genuinely this time. "Listen, April, I'm already behind this afternoon. I'm actually supposed to be meeting with your mother…" he checks his watch quickly with an enthusiast flick of his wrist, "right about now. It's a shame. I was really beginning to enjoy myself."

"Another time." She says randomly, then realizing how that sounds, her eyes widening the tiniest in horror.

"That's an offer I can't refuse. Until next time!" He bows his head politely, taking a step and then stopping. "You have beautiful hair, I bet it's magnificent natural."

Before she has time to process his words, she's touching the ends of her straightened-to-death hair, suddenly not loathing the idea of being cursed with her mother's waves. That was a first. "Thank you, Mr Blake Hammond," she says to no one, perkier than she had been all morning.

* * *

"So… how are you… feeling?" That was not a typical question for Eric, and it sounded just as awkward leaving his mouth. He sits back in his desk chair, flicking at the mouse with the door open so he would know the minute Sarah would enter the suite by her usual greeting to Betty. He'd left the mess hall before her to get in a call before she arrived.

Jack groans, taking a breath before answering. " _Okay_."

"That's good."

" _I... er, thought mom would have called by now. I'm actually surprised she's not here_ ," Jack chuckles a little but it's heavy and miserable.

"Yeah, that's what I want to talk to you about. I think it's best if we don't worry your mom with what's happened. We know what she's like. She's also busy with Erudite, already stressed over it."

" _Would be nice to just hear her voice though. I won't tell her_."

"I'll get her to call you once you've healed further," Eric finalizes, tapping his fingers impatiently. "Do you need anything?"

Jack sighs a little. " _Not really. How's April?"_

"April is being April. I'm hoping she'll turn a new leaf soon with some incentive." Eric briefly thinks of last night. "We'll see." He's barely finished when suddenly Sarah's voice trails down the hallway. "I'll call you the same time tomorrow, my meeting is about to start," he lies naturally for the hundredth time.

" _Okay, tell mom_ …" the change of tone from Jack has Eric look down to the floor for only a second. " _Tell her I miss her_."

Eric closes his eyes feeling the weight of everything beginning to bow his shoulders, pushing him to tell Jack, "I'll come visit you in the next few days." Tiredly, he rubs at his forehead, trying to plan ahead a time slot to take the long journey to Amity. "I've got to go."

" _Bye, dad_." Eric can't say goodbye, almost throwing the phone into the holder and rubbing the heel of his palms into his eyes painfully.

"What's happened?" Sarah's holding the doorframe, with an annoyingly concerned expression on her face. "Eric?"

"What?" he snaps, his head jerking up to her, halting her from moving more towards him. He struggles with realigning his thoughts. "What hasn't happened, Sarah? What can I be possibly stressed about?" His words drip in nasty sarcasm and her concerned expression falls to something he saw in one of the soldiers he'd reprimand on a daily basis, making him stand and sigh, "Just a shitty report, that's all." She still appears slightly put out as he approaches her. "Don't worry your pretty little head, that's what I'm here for."

Slowly she begins to smile. "What bothers you bothers me. You know that..."

"I like this." He twirls a long strand of hair that hangs over her shoulder. "I was thinking earlier while watching you that there was something rebellious about you today. I think it's this," he insinuates the half up, half down hair style.

"You were watching me?"

"I can't _quite_ help myself."

"Are you flirting with me, Mr Coulter?"

Eric's eyes flash dangerously. "And if I was?"

"I'd be very careful, my husband is a very powerful man…"

"Oh yeah?" he drawls. "Keep going…"

"He likes my skirts that I wear that are one inch higher than normal. Though I was unaware he even noticed, and it wasn't intentional…" She shrugs. "I didn't really think it was his thing."

"Well, I better take a look and see. Your efforts shouldn't go to waste." He lets his hands trail down to her thighs, surprisingly lifting her as she laughs and pushes her face into the crook of his neck, her breath warm, familiar; her scent shrouding him in the proximity. Her shrieks of utter joy could well be heard halfway down the hall.

They end up clumsily against the outer wall of his office, and he lets her slip down to her tiptoes, pausing a moment to the feel of her nails raking through the back of his hair. When she stops laughing, he claims her lips. It's an almost overwhelming kiss; the small groan spurring him on, traveling to her jaw and down her neck as her arms fly out to catch herself against the wall. Her chest heaves against the top buttons of her dress and she's saying fuck knows what under her breath. With the expression he catches, her face turned away to allow him all the access he needs, eyes closed, mouth open – he knows she's game.

But that groan turns into a shocked and sharp, "Eric!"

The next thing he knows, she's shoving him away, pulling down her skirt. Eric turns to glare at the intruder, but Sarah takes over the situation. "I'm sorry, Mr Hammond. If you would please just wait in the… er, boardroom? I'll be right with you."

Blake looks between the two, stammering something and instead motions with a finger that he's leaving, disappearing from sight.

" _Yeah, you cockblocker_ ," Eric mumbles, wiping his mouth and going back to his desk.

Sarah turns towards him, holding her flushed cheeks. "Oh my god!"

"You can tell him I said that by the way…" Eric states, finding a pen and flicking off the lid, trying to let his blood flow back from his lower head to his top.

"That's so unprofessional. How can I face him now?"

"You're my wife. This is _my_ office," Eric continues sulkingly, an idea suddenly springing to mind that he keeps to himself. "Interruptions better not become a thing, I don't like sharing nor not getting my dick wet after I put the effort in."

"Eric, that's a vile thing to say."

But he merely smirks knowingly. "Work beckons you, sweetheart. Better get to it."

"You're a rude man," Sarah says firmly, flattening down her hair and checking herself before striding to the door.

"Yeah, yeah… You love it."

Her head pops back in one last time. "On occasion." And Eric almost chokes.

* * *

Sarah practices her smile a few times before pushing the door to the boardroom open and greeting Blake. He's sitting in the seat nearest to the one on the end she usually takes, and cautiously she joins him, not wanting to appear to change for the sake of him imposing himself. "Mr Hammond-"

"Blake, Sarah. I've told you before, it's Blake."

"Blake. I apologize for what-"

He waves a hand dismissively. "Don't. I'm fully aware of the dynamics between husband and wife. We'll just pretend that it never happened and talk about boring building logistics instead." He smiles brightly at her. "I'm here at such short notice as there are some readjustments to parts I made last night which I feel are important…." He pushes a sheet of paper towards her.

"Are you telling me that most of these blueprints are from your own hand?" She scans the measurements. "This… this must have taken hours."

His eyes linger on her face, pleased that she noticed. "Until two AM. I promised expansion and I deliver. A leadership built on trust is what Erudite deserves now. I feel time is of the essence, and for years it's stood still."

It's a jibe towards Eric that she doesn't miss. "I can't fault anyone on personal or factional drive, but pointing fingers is an unsafe path."

"I'm certainly not pointing fingers. It's a factual statement proven by records. We're evolving, Sarah, at a much faster rate than anticipated. One hundred years from now, we'll need to expand outwardly; _through_ the wall. The greatest achievement ever made is under the safe roof your husband has created. Our genes are now guarded against divergency. We have a clean record to work from. He has done his part... please, now let me do mine. The Erudite expansion is the very beginning. Look how well Amity have thrived from theirs. Together, we could start something extremely wonderful."

"By improving Erudite's facilities?" she asks skeptically.

Blake clasps his hands together. "Candor have potentially sealed their own deal on keeping their faction stately. Dauntless is evolving through Eric and his own authority. This is my faction's chance. I'm sure Abnegation will soon follow. I like to call it, the domino effect. It's written and can be seen very clearly."

"And your personal gain is promotion to heading Erudite," Sarah sums up.

He reaches out and covers her hand still on the blueprint papers. "All I want is a better relationship; to start anew, and destroy the backlash we have received through the years that Jeanine had created. Things are different now, and we cannot be afraid."

"Eric is not afraid."

"Eric is not here with us right now. It is you solely controlling this. And…" He hesitates for a moment, before he says, "I know what happened all those years ago. I'm not blind to why you're cautious on taking a chance on Erudite. But your fear cannot control the future."

Sarah pulls her hand away. "I am not afraid. This has nothing to do with us personally."

"Then why is Abnegation's council still stripped? Why is any maintenance controlled? Or more rightly – a lack of maintenance. Patrols are still active at least seventy percent of the time, they themselves armed. For what? Protection?"

Sarah feels her back beginning to sweat under the scrutiny. "It's the way it has always been. It's precaution."

Blake shakes his head with other ideas. "And when Eric steps down?"

She thinks of her son taking his place and can barely imagine it. She couldn't imagine anyone else fronting Dauntless. In fact, she couldn't bear the image of them being old and watching everything Eric had built change and utterly powerless to stop it. "When you step up?" she asks rhetorically. "I could ask you about why serum testing is still happening. We could question everything. But what we know right now, at this moment, is that it works."

"Temporarily. We are still stuck with the word: temporarily. Many people feel that until Eric steps down, we will be stuck in some worldly limbo. People tend to remember others when they have only done bad; every historical figure - Jeanine can be my main example. Do you want them to remember that of Eric… of you?"

"You are purposefully abusing my good nature, Mr Hammond." She turns in her chair and he slaps his palm on the table.

"My intentions are clear. I will not let my name and abuse be in the same sentence! I'm telling the truth and a lack of it can only then be considered as abuse. Do you want me to beg? Do you need me to beg you for this chance?"

He moves from his seat to his knees in front of her and Sarah throws a look up at the door. "No, please, Blake…" she hisses.

But he ignores her plea and gently holding her hands, he pulls them closer towards his chest. "My image is not important to me. I just want you to know how serious I truly am. Give me the go ahead today and I will not fail you."

Sarah doesn't know how to react. She was only ever used to Eric's nature. Seeing a grown man so vulnerable topples her stiffened composure. "For the good of the factions…" she begins. "Not for us, or you, Mr Hammond. I will give you my written consent. It's an advisory notice until Eric has cleared-"

Blake scrambles up and pulls her head down to him, kissing her cheek, his face merely inches from hers. She's too stunned to continue her line of thought, caressing the spot where his lips had been seconds before. "Thank you, Sarah."

"It's… it's advisory, Mr-"

"Your word is as good as his own." He backs off only a little, pushing a single paper towards her, and she signs it in her numbness. "Excuse my outburst. And thank you again for seeing me today." Briefly, he brushes down the front of his jacket, standing to his full height. "You will be very welcome at Erudite."

Sarah nods meekly, gathering herself and showing him to the door. There's a weird feel to the air as she walks him to the front of Betty's desk, watching him call the elevator.

"Mrs Coulter? Are you okay?" Betty asks.

But her hands are shaking. If Eric ever found out about Blake's imposing intimacy, she had no doubts he would stop her from commanding anything ever again, and the Erudite would miraculously disappear. She decides to account his reaction on personal excitement, and she will keep this to herself. "I'm fine. Where's my husband?"

"He left about ten minutes ago."

She finds herself quickly, keeping her voice strong. "I'm going to visit my sister."

Betty smiles hesitantly. "I'll let him know."

"Excuse me." Sarah dashes for the bathroom, the same one she had comforted herself in when she found out Eric had finalized Jack's plans.

Was she even capable of keeping this a secret from Eric?

* * *

A/N:

Thanks to everyone still following and commenting on the story. It's all very much appreciated. :)


	5. Chapter 5

"And how's school, Eliza?" Sarah asks over a stew Mary had made earlier that day. She wasn't meant to stay for so long but it just ended up being that way with Mary telling her that Eliza would be home from school soon. She had felt obliged to stay, seeing as her husband Mark was also away during the weeks now because of her own son.

Eliza was a pretty brunette with long brown ringlets loosely falling by her ears. Her mannerisms were faultless as she sat straight, holding a spoon that seemed too large for her hands. Mary wasn't forceful with correcting sloppy behavior, Eliza had seemingly picked up her mother's ways through instinct. It was nothing like how they were brought up. It felt calm and peaceful, an easy home to belong to. In fact, it wasn't even like Sarah's home, because of the constant play on parenting and Eric's obnoxious ways.

"I love school, Auntie Sarah." Her voice is so small and quaint. It makes her think of April and how different she is to her cousin. April has never been quaint or delicate, the quirks of her father had taken her genes and entrapped them. Though April didn't have height on her side, her attitude carried her much further. If only she could learn how to embrace it.

"I also remember someone who loved school," Sarah says, hinting to Mary who grins quickly at her. "You remind me of her so much."

"Is that my mommy?" The little girl questions, tilting her head shyly while they watch her.

"Yes."

With a small giggle, they grow quiet, finishing their food. Sarah politely props her spoon in the bowl and sighs. "Thank you for dinner. It's nice not having to make it myself. It tastes better." It was also earlier than she was used to. Most nights, Sarah's family were never really ready to sit down to eat until well after eight.

"We should do this more often…" A wry smile forms on Mary's face. "I also like the fact that the leftovers get delivered by Eliza to Mother."

"I still haven't been to see her." Sarah feels guilty, but not that much. She hadn't been in the mood to visit Meredith; it would be question upon question, insulting Eric to the tenth degree, and moaning that April and Jack never visit.

"That woman is as hard as nails, she isn't going anywhere anytime soon…" Mary strokes her daughter's hair. "Why don't you take the bowls out to the kitchen for me? Then when you're finished, go up to your room and sort your things out for tomorrow."

Eliza swings her legs down from the long bench and walks over to Sarah on the other side of the table, hugging her quickly. "Good night!" Then she gathers the bowls and heads for the kitchen.

"She's growing so quickly," Sarah comments, staring off after her. When Mary doesn't reply, she frowns over to her. "What?"

"What's going on? I know you. I know that look. I know the tone. I know the heaviness."

"Work's been a little strange. I'm working with Erudite and the new… maybe new Leader." Sarah fidgets, leaning her arm on the table. "He's not what I expected. I feel out of my depth and intimidated, I suppose. What's also strange is that Eric seems to have every confidence in me. I thought at first that he just did it as a way to swindle Erudite while he was busy patching up Candor. I showed him some other information about another major problem, a _serious_ problem, and he hasn't mentioned it. Maybe I'm just overthinking… I seem to be doing that a lot lately."

"Overthinking what?" Mary asks, watching Sarah's eyes remain on the table.

"Everything…" Eliza reappears and they wait until she vanishes upstairs. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course! You can tell me anything. Do you want a drink or something, though? A hot drink?"

Sarah looks out to the sun setting. "No, it's getting late. I can't have another relapse of last time."

Mary scoffs. "Go hard or go home Sarah."

"You're not funny." But she does laugh a little. "I'll just come out and say it… Blake is being suggestive."

"And Blake is who again?"

"He's Blake Hammond, the guy from Erudite that I'm working with. It may just be me, but I feel his persona towards me is mixed. It's like… it's like I can't work him out."

"So, you mean like, flirting, or...?"

"Sort of. His words are all work related. But it's the way he expresses himself - his actions."

"Mommy! I can't find any hair ties!" Eliza shouts down the stairs, sounding like she was about to descend any minute.

Mary snaps her head over her shoulder. "Honey, just wait two minutes!" Her eyes flicker over Sarah for a moment before she gestures for her to continue. "And?"

"Well, that's it." But she begins blushing. "He kissed my cheek after I accepted his work proposal. And he touches my hands a lot," she rushes, realizing how immature it sounded. "I can't explain."

"Have you given him any reason?"

"Nothing at all." She shrugs, frowning for a moment and then her eyes widen at Mary. "He must be half my age. He knows I'm married." Sarah bites her lip still under her sister's scrutiny. "Eric doesn't know any of this. And I can't tell him. How could I possibly? It sounds preposterous just telling you."

"I could have guessed that. But to me, it doesn't sound like anything to be worried about. Maybe that's just what he's like." Mary smiles, trying to comfort her older sister. "It may be a big thing to you because you've always had Eric breathing down your neck, let alone the chance to interact with, I'm guessing, single and successful men."

"I have an active social life, Mary. I'm not locked away." Sarah rolls her eyes. "There is something _off_ with his behavior," she stresses.

"He hasn't technically done anything. And as you say, he's all words, about work from what I'm understanding."

"It's his disclosure."

"Do you... _like_ him?"

It takes Sarah by surprise, scrunching up her nose, she exclaims, "Oh gosh, no!"

"If it happens again, maybe then you should say something." Mary smiles at her. "Everything is okay with you and Eric, though?"

Sarah thinks about the extra effort Eric has put in lately, especially when he had taken it upon himself to help April the other night. "We are more than fine," she reassures her sister. She pauses for a moment, wiping a crumb from the table. "Can we keep this between us? I just needed to get that off my chest. And it's not particularly something I can approach Eric with."

"You don't even have to ask. A problem shared is a problem halved. You sure you don't want anything?"

Sarah stands up, straightening her skirt. "No, I'm going to make a move. It's getting dark. And I think Eliza is waiting for you." She finds her boots by the door, slipping her feet inside, and then pulls on her long cloak, shrouding her head with the hood while her sister watches with clasped hands. "If you hear anything from Mark about Jack, let me know as soon as you can."

"All I know is that signal is bad and they are extremely busy. I barely hear from Mark as much as I'd like," Mary lies. But it's for the sake of Sarah's state of mind, so that can't be a bad thing…

They hug quickly, and as Sarah steps onto the graveled path, she waves over her shoulder, the light from inside dying with the door closing.

It's colder than she had realized, the night sky clear and freckled with masses of stars, the moon bright overhead and appearing as if it leads the way home. Of course, Abnegation is like a ghost town, the opposite of Sarah's Dauntless lifestyle. Most of the people here would be dining with their families and tucked up by nine, not long after their children's heads had hit the pillow.

Sarah knew this route like the back of her hands. It took her through a patch of abandoned buildings and old streets. She admired the way nature had tried to claim back some of the carnage left behind; growing through the brickwork and sprouting in the cracks in the sidewalk. She even thought the space between Abnegation and Dauntless was like a different solitary world. It was usually the place where the bulk of her thoughts were left to run wild and the only witness of her dreaming was the sun or moon itself. The old buildings were like long forgotten whispers of the past, only still present to be remembered for what was - like gravestones, sad but beautiful.

But something has Sarah peer over her shoulder. Not once had she ever feared walking the short track home, but like the connection she processed when people's moods changed, the same feeling slipped down the back of her neck unexpectedly.

She increases her pace a little more, no longer able to wander in her thoughts - when she hears a sharp scrape behind her. She gasps, having heard it so evidently, twirling round to… nothing. Staying completely still, though her breath left raggedly through her open mouth no matter how hard she tried to control it, the old street remained silent.

After the initial fear, her anxiety creeps in. " _Get yourself together, Sarah_ …" she whispers to herself. " _This is stupid_." Turning and heading back towards Dauntless once again, every piece of her skin is on alert. The urge to run ahead screamed in her thighs, but her mind kept her locked with indecisions and uncertainty of why she actually should if there was nothing physically there.

She doesn't need to be convinced further when the sound of rocks scatter behind her. She grabs the front of her skirt and sprints without looking back. Turning a corner, she pushes herself up against the cover of a building. What sounded like debris is now large striding footsteps, approaching closer and closer. Peering down the dark street to her right, a path set away from her destination, she doesn't know where it leads, or at least can't remember precisely in this moment as adrenaline pumped through her veins and blocked her thoughts. Her fingers grip into the concrete behind her and she prays the person will pass without noticing her. The fight or flight instinct was a terribly blurry line between possible stupidity; standing up to whoever was coming behind her, or maybe a chance of escaping and unknowing.

She decides to face her fears, stepping out determinedly, though shaken and comes face to face with… Thomas. She doesn't hesitate and throws herself into her younger brother's arms.

"What are you doing?" he questions while chuckling as if she was insane for embracing him so tightly.

"You frightened me!" She whacks his back for good measure.

"I'm sorry. I just saw Mare and she said you'd just left and I didn't want to miss you." She still doesn't let go. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now." Standing back she wipes her nose, beginning to smile as the threatening feeling evaporated. She even laughs. "God, I feel so stupid."

"I'm not surprised. You looked it." She whacks him playfully on the arm. "What are you so afraid of?"

"I thought I was being followed or… I don't know!" Putting a hand to her hip, she breathes deeply. "Can you walk me home?"

"I would be delighted." Enthusiastically, he guides her hand to the crook of his arm and covers it with his own. Sarah feels safe like this. Her once small and young brother; the one she used to protect from all the happenings of the past, now a strong man she could rely on who had changed roles with her. How things had changed. But his next words make her blood run cold. "I only saw you step around the corner, thank god I did, as I don't think I would have spotted you."

Sarah quickly calculates the time between when she had stopped and gazed down the path, back towards Abnegation. She swallows dryly. "Just now?"

"I sprinted the whole way. I got my daily dose of exercise." He continues talking aimlessly, and Sarah peers back behind her, Thomas dragging her forward. _What was that?_

* * *

Sarah opens the door to the apartment and Eric is sitting at the dining table. He's passive when he sees her, appearing as if he has been waiting. There is no work in front of him and his phone is under one of his hands. "You do realize you have a phone, right?" he asks sarcastically. But she ignores him, unwrapping herself from her long cloak and kicking her boots off.

Eric stands up and rounds the table, waiting a few feet from her.

"April?" Sarah questions.

He shakes his head before replying, "Nightshift." She doesn't miss the cocky lift in his lip from his own doing. "Double shift, too." He seems proud of his own trifling.

Sarah pulls out her hair, unbuttoning the top buttons of her dress. She kicks her boots to one side, rolling down her stockings and lifts her dress over her head in one fluid motion. Standing still, Eric inclines his chin, another way of asking what she was up to.

For the final revelation, she unclips her bra, dropping it to the ground. That's where Eric's eyes flick to and then back to her face. "Well, this is a surprise."

"Stop talking," she says tremulously. Her last garment is her underwear, flung carelessly without breaking his eye contact. "Take your clothes off."

Eric stares blankly at her for a moment. Ever so slightly his eyes narrow, his hands reaching up to undo his uniform. His jaw is set as he strips away his top layers, revealing a solid body etched with tattoos and specific marks gained from his line of work. As he breathes, his muscles flex under his skin as if in anticipation of her next move. And he takes a wide, confident stance under her perusal.

When she doesn't move, he goes for his belt, but that is when she steps forward. "Wait." She pads over, instantly caught by the close heat of him towering over her, a nervous shake tinging her fingertips. Unclipping his belt, she slides it from the loops of his pants. "Keep this."

It's an unusual request that throws him. In his pause, she unbuttons his pants, sliding them down his legs, then straightens, allowing him to remove them.

And then she offers her wrists to him with a mild blush on her cheeks.

"I don't know what's happening right now. But I'm not going to question it." His voice is steady, pulling his belt tight over her desired destination. Tugging on the strap, she tags him along with her and he holds onto the belt until they reach the bedroom. Wrapping the loose leather a few times to secure her, he already knows what she wants.

Eric pushes her onto her front, moving up quickly behind her, and Sarah pants in anticipation. Rubbing the tip of his cock slowly over her clit, he nudges forwards to feel her center when he passes, easing his way in.

Sarah gathers the sheets into her fists, just as he charges forwards. She whimpers semi-consciously, arching her back, trying to spur him on, listening to the raggedness of his breath as the slow strokes are abandoned for hard thrusts; Eric's control and awareness slipping. Sharp jolts knock her stability, constantly squirming to readjust as his grip tightens on her hips.

"Harder," spills from her lips. But it's not what she wants. Eric does what she says, a grunt escaping from his effort. "Harder, Eric. Harder." Sarah was coaxing him, coaxing him to understand. "Harder!" When his palm connects with her thigh, half playfully, half in frustration it seems, she entices him further. "Yes, like that." She turns around only to make eye contact, to tell him it was okay. "Again!"

The sound as his palm meets her skin, echoes in the air and she mewls, enjoying the sting. "Again!" And he does so on command. She can feel her body tightening, along with the build-up of guilt and stress she felt and pushed away on a daily basis; it all beginning to unravel. It gets to a point she doesn't even comprehend what's she's saying, murmuring the same word over and over.

It's only when Eric stops, she glances over her shoulder, irritated and unsatisfied. He's sweating, panting, rubbing at his temples. "Eric… what-"

"I've come, Sarah." His tone is something she's barely ever heard before. He's disappointed.

Lost for words, she awkwardly rolls over to face him in the transcending silence. "What? You mean…"

"You made me come. The way you were talking. What you were saying." His face is pained, almost disgusted with himself. "Why do you want me to hurt you?"

Did she say that? "I… I…" It's a fiery burn of embarrassment and loathing for herself that forces its way to the surface of her cheeks. "That's not…"

"You made me take you like a whore!" Eric explodes, beginning to pace, constantly rubbing his face. "You're my wife!"

"Exactly!" she retorts. "I am your wife. I… I…" She obviously wanted this, but not with this outcome. She hadn't thought of the consequences of her over-exhilarant actions. "I am not a whore, Eric!"

"Then don't make me fuck you like one!"

Sarah's mouth drops open. Ultimately, she had caused this; she had done this. Eric had his kinks and they were never exactly conventional with their lovemaking but he was always in control. She had taken it to another level, something he wasn't happy with. In her shame, she pulls the sheet up to cover herself.

Without another word, Eric heads for the door. "Wait! Where… where are you going?" Could she fix this? She could try if she could only talk to him for a moment. But deep down she knew he couldn't, not in this raging state he was in.

"I can't even look at you right now." Eric slams the bedroom door shut. Sitting in the silence of their bedroom, Sarah doesn't move; she doesn't cry, doesn't wallow in her own pity. What she felt, she deserved, and she embraced it.

* * *

Jack's busy staring up at the ceiling. The pain is manageable, causing his mind to be restless. Most of the night he had all the time to think, which he usually wished for. But right now it was too much. Too quiet.

Hearing the door open to his small room, he glances over slowly to Chip smiling. "Came to see the patient. The others sent their regards," he explains, his eyes traveling to Jack's arm supported up to his chest to help aid his shoulder. "It suits you."

Jack scoffs, sitting himself up further. "I'm done with this place."

Chip strolls more into the room and touches the array of different wildflowers beside Jack's bed. "Interesting… I would be more surprised if we hadn't have gone on our woodwalk. I take you for a nature guy now."

"What are you doing here?"

"Day off." Chip shrugs, taking a seat on the spare chair next to his bed. "Kind of missed my grumpy friend."

"You should be with the others." Jack's voice is husky, low, almost sounding defeated.

"The others are all doing boring shit or sleeping. Plus, half are still working. I'm just lucky I was picked first. They get the day off tomorrow." They stare at each other too long until Jack looks away. "And I'm not going anywhere before you say it."

"Why do you bother?"

In confusion, his friend's face scrunches up. "What?"

"Why are you here? Why do you bother?" he repeats, sharper than before.

"I can see past the evasive front you put on. It's getting rather boring now, Jacko Smacko." Chip pushes from the bed to tilt in his chair. He seems to remember something and pulls out a notepad and pen and begins scribbling. "Jenny asked about you."

"Great." He rolls his eyes, his voice laden with sarcasm. "...I've been thinking about her the whole time I've been in here."

"What have you been thinking about?" Chip mumbles and Jack looks over to his friend's tongue sticking out the further he gets into whatever he's scribbling. He doesn't acknowledge him, or the fact his question is heavily prying as per usual.

"Honestly?" he asks after a moment. "I've been thinking about capping the dick who shot me."

Rotating the notepad to a weird angle, his friend's voice is almost absent when he says, "You're going to have an _awesome_ scar."

"I keep thinking…" He feels himself becoming irritable and hot, letting his head fall back onto the pillows propping him up. "...About my mom."

Chip pauses now. "I don't know whether to ask as you told me not to talk about your mom-"

"There's nothing to talk about," Jack interrupts him and sighs. "I just keep thinking about her. I think about April too."

"No offense, but I've never liked April. She's such a bit-" He looks up at Jack and licks his lips. "…She's a horrible person, man." Chip looks down to his notebook. "She tipped a drink purposefully over me once in the Pit. We were in initiation together. She branded me a loser and…" He touches his hair, messing the top of his dark, sandy locks; a thing Jack noticed he did when Chip got nervous. "...She made my life practically hell. Typical class A bully." He snorts to himself and begins scribbling quicker than before.

It shouldn't be Jack's burden to carry the guilt of what April's done in the past, but he can't help it. "Mate, you are not the only one. She's my sister and at times I find it hard to like her."

"She turned that entire class against me and ever since I've been trying to win back people's respect because of her. She wasn't that bad with anyone else. I _was_ the only one. Do you have any idea what that is like?"

"I'm sorry."

Chip inhales sharply, meeting Jack's gaze, and this time neither breaks it. Obviously, an apology on April's behalf was not what he was expecting. A smile reflects on both their faces slowly, and Chip turns the notebook to show him. "I'm a little rusty. Not my typical notepad either, it's a bit small. And ignore the page lines, that's-"

"You drew me?"

"I like to draw emotions… expressions. It just so happens you have so many of them."

Cautiously Jack studies him. He'd never met anyone so persistent and open by Dauntless standards.

"You're even doing it now," Chip mentions with a smile and points at his friend to emphasize his point.

"Habit," he mumbles quickly and looks down at his free hand.

"Shall I get coffee?" Chip asks, a coarseness to his voice as he drags himself out of the chair.

"Definitely," Jack replies and watches Chip leave the room. A heavy feeling of confusion washes over him as he glances at the notepad left open on the chair next to him.

* * *

Sarah decides to have lunch back at the apartment with the pitiful hope Eric would come back to find her. He hasn't. She's aware of the sound of April banging around in her bedroom getting ready for the day after her night shift.

She sips a coffee, something Eric had got her accustomed to years ago as April makes an appearance, almost dashing by. "Hi, April," Sarah says with a smile, putting down her coffee cup.

"Oh, hey mom," she chirps back with a head of bouncing waves. Her eyes land on Sarah's cup and she comes directly over and snatches it up, sipping it. Sarah was used to it by now.

"I like your hair."

Vainly, April pulls on a strand. "Thanks! I thought it may be a bit much… You don't think so, right?" Expectantly, she looks at her.

"I've always said you should leave it natural." Sarah gets the vibe she is about to leave at any minute. "How was work last night?"

"Long, boring, irritating. The usual."

"Will you sit with me for a minute?" April seems surprised, biting her lip, but does so anyway.

"Where's dad?"

"I… I don't know." Sarah scoffs sadly, peering down to the table.

"You're not going to cry or anything, are you?" April rolls her eyes. "You know I'm not good with that stuff."

"No, no! I'm fine. Turn around and let me see the back," she motions to her hair. April does so, her frame slender and petite from this angle and Sarah revels in the slight attention she has from her daughter, scrunching the ends. "You know, my little sister Elizabeth, Lizzie, your aunty, had very curly hair. I think you two would have gotten on really well, she was... something. You share a lot with your dad, but with her too."

"Nobody really speaks about her," April says quietly. "Mary gets all teary whenever she thinks about it or if it's mentioned."

"It's... a hard subject." Sarah tilts her head, still tending to her daughter's hair.

"What happened? I mean, I know it was an accident…"

Sarah has always avoided the facts as the children were always too young, but she couldn't find fault in the open truth anymore. "We were too late." She stops, and April turns to face her questioningly. "Me and Mary went to find her after she ran away. The stupid girl wanted to be with the factionless. She couldn't stand living with Grandma and Grandpa anymore. We found her, but it was too late."

"Was dad there?"

"He has always been there." It's one thing she couldn't fault him on. Still to this day, she couldn't work out if Eric saved her that day; stopping her from devotedly crossing the train track to get to Lizzie.

"Is that what happens when people die? They just get forgotten?"

"It's not that we have forgotten her. She was so full of life, she wouldn't want us moping around."

April's blue eyes narrow. "That's where you and me are different, mom. When I die, I hope people can't live without me."

"Don't say such a thing! I couldn't live without you. And I'm sure your father would have the same reply." April shakes her head, looking out towards the door. "April," Sarah says sharply. "It's not forgetting about someone, it's genuinely just time. It never stops. It never ceases." She grabs her hand and holds it. "I wanted to keep you small forever, but without time, you wouldn't have turned into the young and beautiful woman you are today."

"Forced compliments make me cringe."

"I'm serious. No matter what, you will always be my little girl. Can't you see that?"

"This is a real nice mother-daughter moment, mom, but I'm going to be late for work."

Sarah holds her hand tighter. "Please don't shut me out anymore. I need you just as much as you need me."

"I hate to break it to you, but you didn't need Meredith. So, how could you possibly know about how much we _need_ each other if you hardly had a mother yourself?"

"She's the exception, not the rule."

"You're just like dad, rules to suit yourself - like Jack, for instance. Don't try and fool me, I know you wish it was me out there and not him. It's written all over your face, day in and day out."

Sarah snaps her hand away as if she had been burnt. "How dare you say that!"

"But it's true!" April stands up, knocking the table. "And you sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, I guess that you and dad have had another row. The quicker he sees you for what you are, an Abnegation, the better. You've changed him. I hear all these great stories of this incredible Leader and I never get to see _any_ of it! Why are you forcing yourselves to click with each other? You don't match!" This was something April had kept submerged and she really couldn't have picked a more harrowing time to vent them. They were her most inner thoughts and opinions on Sarah's situation - and it was crushing. More so, because she couldn't grasp what love is; what it took for them to finally find each other for who they were, sounding like the many bitter people who put themselves in the way of their relationship before. She didn't see _her_ ; her _mother_ , a person willing to see past any front April tried to depict. A friend; Sarah spent so many nights praying to be. All she ever saw was gray. "...And when he divorces you-"

Sarah is possessed with such an awful hurt which unpredictably drags itself to the surface, that she stands up and slaps April's face with force, just as the front door clicks and Eric steps into the room. Whether his face was like thunder before, she doesn't know.

April lurches towards Sarah threateningly and Sarah loses her nerve, cringing back.

"April!" Eric bellows. The young girl pants in anger, a red swelling on her cheek from her mother's hand, the payment of her awful words, and storms past him while all he does is watch.

"I… I didn't mean to do that…" Sarah runs a hand through her hair, pushing flyaways back in place. "You didn't hear what she was saying…"

"Have you gone mad? Have you lost your mind? I come back to talk, at the very _least_ , and see you taking a swipe at April now?"

"She was saying hateful things. She loathes the very ground I walk on over something I can't control. You know what she is like!"

"Oh yeah, I know. But I also thought I knew you." Eric wipes at his mouth quickly, an irritable fashion he usually did before he exploded. "If you want to take your anger out on someone, take it out on me, not our daughter."

"You're defending her?" Sarah says exasperatedly, throwing her arms up. "No… no… Of course you are. I'm stupid to think otherwise."

"You're acting pretty fucking stupid right now."

"I wonder why!" Nothing short of hysterical was the only thing Sarah could begin to describe her tone of voice.

"That's a question I keeping asking myself!" He steps forward and Sarah's arm shoots out to stop him.

"She wants you to divorce me!"

"Oh, _she does_? Is that what you think I'm going to do? If you do, you don't know me very well either. I took my vows seriously, Sarah." He proceeds to approach cautiously all while she stands numbly with her outburst, hand to her forehead. "Do you want me to?"

She looks up at him. "No, of course not..."

"At least we've got that settled. You're listening to a lonely girl's cry for help with a plate load of shit waiting for you back at the office. If it's too much, just say so." The head tilt with his reply is a test. She'd seen it so many times now. She knew he had expectations of her and she didn't want to fail him. He looked completely fresh in his uniform, down to his spotless boots. And she felt sweaty and disheveled, her nerves trip-wiring while he always managed to make it seem effortless.

"I'm sorry," she whispers defeatedly.

"What for?" His voice is low, not threatening anymore, almost comforting.

"I'm not strong. I'm not like you." It started to give her a sense of why Eric was how he is. Until put into a similar position, she couldn't fathom her mind being drafted into different sections. She'd always been primed with tasks that were never too much of a responsibility. Yes, she sounded for the council in Abnegation on other topics people relied on, but never to this difficulty of Erudite. With the added effects of April and Jack, it was a recipe for personal and professional disaster. "I try, I really do."

"Sarah..." As always, he lets his fingers tuck her hair away, gently tilting her face up to him. "I've always wanted you for who you are." He shrugs. "Maybe, at first, I couldn't quite get that. But I see it now. And always have since. I don't _want_ you to be like me, sweetheart."

"But I'm not weak," she stresses.

"No. You certainly aren't." He scoffs, his hands leisurely enveloping her waist. "Who else could stand me for nearly eighteen years? If anything, I feel kind of lucky."

"Last night-" she rushes to say but he interrupts her.

"Forget about last night." He dismisses it with a wave of his hand and swiftly cradles her head, pulling her forward, his lips in her hair, he lets her rest in the crook of his neck. "Forget about it. And forget about April too, she'll get over it. Plus, I have something to show you." She pulls back to the picturesque sight that is his smirk.

* * *

Eric had guided her to the Leader's suite and covered her eyes as the elevator appeared on their floor. He walks her slowly as she grips his wrists, anxious and a little excited about what was in store that was so top secret that he couldn't just say.

"You're scaring me a bit," she comments, her hands gripping his wrists tighter while she is constantly driven forward by his chest hitting her back.

"That's alright," he whispers close to her ear. "Being scared makes you hold me closer." He pushes up purposefully from behind. "And it reminds me of a time, years ago, down in the dark of the basement when we were trying to find those shitty panels." His hands tighten on her skin as he mumbles, "Your wide eyes, open mouth, that quivering break in your voice."

"There was no way, at the time, that you were thinking that." She scoffs and laughs at how she remembers Eric back in the day. "You were stomping your feet, and you were mad that you had to go and fix the problem yourself."

"How do you know _exactly_ what I was thinking?" He bites at her neck suggestively, and as she flinches to stop him, he keeps his hands steady over her eyes. "No looking."

"I remember thinking, 'what would he do if I reached out and touched him', as we were descending the steps. I was truly frightened then. I couldn't see my own feet."

"Honestly, I was hoping you would."

Sarah beams, biting her lip to control herself as they swayed to a stop, the familiar waves of heat beginning to tighten pleasantly in the pit of her stomach. "Can I open them now?"

"Hold on." It sounds like a door clicking open and Eric flicking on a light. A strong smell of fresh paint and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on entranced her senses in a rush. It made it almost impossible to wait any longer, Eric was really drawing this out, until he says, "Okay, you can look now."

Sarah opens her eyes and gasps.

* * *

A/N:

Hello!

I apologize that this took so long to get up. I've been a little _distracted_ so I've decided to take a lengthy break from writing fanfiction and concentrate on a more current muse of mine. I'm still around to chat etc, I just won't be uploading for a while. Thank you for reading and supporting me for so long.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:**

 **I can already see the rolling of eyes and ready hand to slap me. I am EXTREMELY sorry this has taken FOREVER to get this up. It was actually a surprise to myself that I had this entire chapter written out and I hadn't posted it. So here, sate yourselves. But just give yourself a moment to find your inner zen and gloss back over the older chapters for a catch-up as this takes straight off from the last.**

 **So, go ahead. Go do that now. We'll wait. :D**

 **Ugh, I feel like such a horrible person. Forgive me.**

* * *

Sarah lays on her front with her arms tucked under her, propping herself up on her elbows as she watches Eric lie down on his back with a huff. She can't help but smile, laying her head down to only pick it back up again, her lips parting to talk then hesitating. His eyes are closed and unless he had the ability to fall asleep in two seconds, he isn't asleep just yet. "Eric?" She feels giddy saying his name, squeezing her pillow in her hands. "Eric?"

"Mm?" he only hums in response, throwing an arm behind his head, still pretending to be asleep. After a moment he glances out the corner of his eye to the svelte of her back and then to her breasts beneath her.

Sarah thinks of what he had done - his surprise for her. He'd made one of the abandoned rooms and a place usually used for storage, and turned it into an office solely for her at the end of the hall. It had been painted fresh white and had white-wood furniture, a plant like Eric's on a shelf on the wall behind her new desk. It was neat and ready for tomorrow, to which she could officially store all her work and take up residence proudly during the day. No more boardrooms.

She lays down to reach a hand out to his chest, brushing over the dusting of hair and watching as goose bumps prickled under her hand. "Thank you for you did. I really wasn't expecting that."

Eric flinches, tickled by her wanderings. "Don't fucking do that," he mumbles grumpily, snatching her hand away. "No need to thank me. I wanted to." He sounded anything other than happy though, but that wasn't going to stop her excitedly sharing her thoughts with him.

"I wasn't expecting it. It was a really nice surprise."

"Don't act as if it is the only thing I've ever done."

Sarah scoffs to herself, allowing him to idly play with her fingers. "You don't get it, do you?" He raises an eyebrow, watching a length of her hair fall over her shoulder. "You went out of your way. It's, kind of, almost, romantic."

He stares blankly back at her, then sighs, "You live in a dream world."

"So, you didn't do that romantically?"

"I did it because you needed it."

"And?" she prompts him, still smiling.

"And what, Sarah?" He laughs to himself, sitting himself up more on his side to face her. "I don't know where you are going with this. But…" He pauses, a lopsided smirk appearing on his lips. "I like the look on your face." She blushes, dropping her eyes to the pillow in front of her. "Actually, there is something…" He reaches out and caresses her cheek, letting his thumb run across her bottom lip, then over the small scar. "She's still in there. Not that crazy one from earlier."

"You have _such_ a way with words."

"You wouldn't like me if I didn't talk like this."

"I think you'd be more ruthless," she says quietly, avoiding his stare. "I wouldn't know your true intentions if you weren't so blunt. I think it would be more… intimidating. Watching you think long and hard and not knowing exactly-"

"There is something long and hard in this room and I know exactly what it's thinking."

"That's vile, Eric. Eric!" she shrieks as he places her hand under the covers, fighting him off until she can pull free, but his hold is still tight around her wrist.

"Kiss me," Eric asks, his eyes fluttering across her face as she catches her breath. "Kiss me like you used to."

Sarah's expression drops into something more serious, studying him. Out of everything, that was an unusual request. And out of instinct, she knew that his behavior was off. However, they'd argued so much recently, bringing it up would only start another heated debate. "Like I used to? I always kiss you, always have, the same."

"You used to be nervous and shy. You used to shudder. That doesn't happen a lot anymore. I… I miss that." He shrugs his shoulders as he talks, drifting away from her face for a fraction of a second.

"Are you asking me to? Or are you demanding?"

"Demanding, of course. That's all I do, apparently."

Sarah moves closer to him, still on her front. He waits patiently, her lips is what he focuses on. Gently, she leans more towards him until their mouths connect warmly, the taste of him so specific to her memory. His free hand already tangles itself into her hair and she opens her mouth when he nudges forward with his tongue. As she pulls away, he bites on her lip softly, groaning at the loss of contact. "Sorry," he exclaims, and is too quick for Sarah. She giggles as he drags her toward him, pushing her onto her back and climbs on top of her.

"You tricked me! And to think I was beginning to feel sorry for you. I actually thought-"

"What? That I felt I was being neglected? I meant a lot of what I said, you know. A bit."

"Now I find it difficult to believe you." Especially with that smirk on his face. He's heavy, pushing her into the mattress, scouring ever part of her skin, his lips to hers in a moment. He lifts and manipulates her easily, deepening their kiss by bringing her back off the bed by a hand underneath her. She lets her eyes close, and him consume her.

* * *

"She hates me," Sarah tells Stacey as they walk from the Infirmary to grab lunch. "It all just came flowing out of her yesterday. I was really trying. She threw everything back in my face. Said she couldn't wait for Eric to divorce me."

"Oh shit," Stacey gasps.

"I told Eric about what she said. He's not bothered by her at all, But I am. It's the daughter I raised, and… I'm scared of her."

"Why would she say specifically about you two divorcing each other?"

Sarah shrugs. "Arguing. But to be truthful, there hasn't really been anything we don't argue over, so I don't get it. Maybe she wanted that in my head, or Eric's. I don't know."

"Eric won't divorce you even if his life was on the line. You're good for him, everyone can see it."

"Not everyone thinks that." They make a turn towards the Mess hall, avoiding groups of people they pass. "And now I think maybe that's what everyone is saying." Sarah looks around, trying to suss people's thoughts uselessly.

"I haven't heard anything. I would shut that shit down if I did. Nobody talks about my best friend like that. I'd refuse them antibiotics and watch them fester before they could get away with it."

"What a good, murderous friend you are." Sarah walks ahead to open the double doors, almost walking into an Eric and a cluster of his usual friends and acquaintances around him. It appears he had been waiting.

He turns slowly, using his cuff to wipe his mouth and stands straight, a courteous smile towards Stacey. "Can I eat with my wife, alone?"

Stacey peers between his friends, and having known Glen through them for a while, nods and squeezes Sarah's hand before leaving with him to hit the lunch queue. "I'll catch you later."

"Sarah," he starts and she puts a hand up.

"Do you know what, I knew something was up last night. Just tell me straight." It was all too good to be true.

Eric's mouth opens and closes, stumped a little, also somewhat agitated with a quick exhale through his nose. "I'm going away for two nights. I've got some things to do beyond the wall, to do with the stuff you told me about through Erudite and the sanitation issue. Just a skirmish. Easy enough. I need to evaluate the next steps we take."

"And when do you leave?" She crosses her arms, trying to keep her face stern.

"Later today."

Sarah's shoulders slump. "What about April?"

"I've put her on night shifts for the rest of the week."

"So you knew you were going to do this days ago?"

Eric pouts as he thinks. "Yeah, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Yes," he reiterates a little more sternly. "Of course. It's my job. I had planned to go to Candor but, as this appears to be more important from all the bitching I'm getting, it's costing me time from there." Glancing behind him, he pockets his hands, smiles, and cheerily suggests, "So, I thought we could eat together."

Sarah can only stare at him. "Oh…" Stunned a little from his invitation, he tilts his head to prompt her. "Eat together?" She thinks about it quickly. "I'd love to." She walks past him, leading the way to the queue. "It's not often we eat together in the Mess hall." Eric rubs the back of his neck quickly, grimacing, then stops as she turns around. "Does this mean you're leaving after lunch?"

"Yeah." He takes two trays and slides them along. There was food they could eat from the middle but Eric had more than enough points to queue for the good stuff; food that was usually hot, anyway. He chews his lip watching her make an order over the counter, following up behind with his own. When Sarah makes a move to take her tray, he grabs them both, and she smiles devotedly.

It was only making it worse. But he was a master of disguise. Like she would notice…

All he had to do was get this hour out of the way, while she smiled and talked endlessly about things he would never remember, eating like some inept snail as she did so. Then he could go and see their son, and pretend it never happened.

He's too lost in thoughts when he feels Sarah's hand touch his from beside him. He'd followed her to an end of a table where they could be alone, sitting next to each other. "I know I've asked already. But what are we going to do about April? I'm worried. Perhaps she needs to see a doctor or something? It's not normal to be that… that aggressive?"

"She doesn't need a doctor, she needs a strict fucking ass beating."

"I want you to advise her to see a doctor, or at the very least speak to someone," Sarah clarifies and Eric rolls his eyes.

"Don't be stupid."

"Eric, she came _at_ me. If you weren't there…" She tsks and rearranges some food on her plate. "She is Dauntless and I am not. I'm not equipped to deal with her the way you do. One day she's going to take it too far and you're not always going to be there-"

"Sarah, you are overthinking it. She's had her warning, that is the end of it now." Sarah sighing forces him to look at her. "If she oversteps her boundaries again, she's out."

"That's not what I was implying. I would never say such a thing. I don't want that."

"I also don't have time to be dealing with an unruly teen. I'm so sick to the back teeth of that child," Eric seethes, stabbing at his plate.

"It's exactly that. She's a child. Not just a child, but _our_ child. She will _not_ be factionless." Sarah plants the seed. Eric wouldn't allow any children of his to be condemned, let alone the gossip and taunts afterward.

"You know, you're right." His piercings above his brow glint in the dim lighting when his eyebrows raise. "The lowest place I have is the wall. If she doesn't sort herself out, if we have another incident, I'll position her at the wall."

Sarah's expression is pained. "Have we failed as parents?" she asks. Eric glances at her wedding ring exposed by the hand lying flat on the table and brushes his fingertips over it.

"I never fail at anything, and neither will you." Sarah sadly smiles, so he strokes down the side of her face to comfort her, ignoring the crowded room, and pulls her gently by the neck to kiss her forehead.

In the furthest corner, covered by the liveliness of her friends, April festers back in her chair, arms crossed. "How does she do it?" she asks herself, ignoring everything but the way her father tipples to the pathetically innocent way Sarah clings onto him.

###

Jack walks into the tarpaulin tent they called home to cheering and long claps. "Here he is!" somebody shouts from across the room. His arm is still pulled taut up to his shoulder in a fancy cottoned tourniquet with comfortable fitted straps; supposedly allowing him more movement and apparently intended to give him a better night's sleep.

"Allright, ease down, guys." He waves them off with hand, nodding to Jessica who passes with a slight tap on his good arm, than waiting for Chip to arrive behind him. The same friend who had been visiting at any point he could. When he appears, they make their way over to their beds, and Jack sits down with a grunt. "I don't have to guess who it was that told everyone I was allowed out today."

"C'mon! One of our team gets shot and survives, a hero's welcome is by all means necessary."

"Friendly fire, Chip. It's not like I was at war."

"No," Chip laughs. "We were just taking a stroll. That makes it even better."

Jack watches a group leave, and others chatting among themselves expressively. He kicks Chip opposite him and motions with his head. "Where are they going?"

"We've been going into Amity when we can. They have a fest pretty much every night, camp fires and all."

"Are you going?" Jack asks,

"Nah, thought I'd stay with the cripple." He's not looking, untying one of his boots slowly.

"Well then," Jack stands, stretching his back carefully. "You'll be alone with an imaginary cripple all night, 'cause this one's out,"

"You think that's a good idea? Doctor said to take it easy and remember the pain meds at eleven..." But Chip is talking to his friends large back as he makes a break for the front of the open tent. "Wait, Jack!" He smiles to himself, half stumbling over his unlaced boot, thinking that chasing after this Coulter was going to become a regular thing.

* * *

Jessie, Jessica - the girl, is what Jack refers to as she stands impossibly close to him. Every time the conversation turned into a humorous direction and he would laugh, she would to, touching his arm. He can't quite work her out, frowning and feeling awkward with her actions, shimmying half a step to the side to get rid of her. She did this stupid thing, swaying on the spot when she spoke up and got close enough to touch him again.

In the end, he allows her, sipping his Amity brewed beer for relief. Every time he looked up and around the group, Chip would catch his eye, tilting his head to her and he'd smirk it off. The fifth time, he spots someone approaching their group with a rather large stride, gun swinging over their arm.

"Sorry to interrupt," Mark fits himself into the middle of their circle, grabbing Jack's good shoulder and herding him away from them. "I have been looking for you _everywhere_."

Mark's out of breath and Jack couldn't care less. "Well, you've found me. What's up?"

"I don't know how you don't know. I don't know how much contact you've had…" Mark frowns at him, grabbing his face and gazing right into his eyes. "You've been _drinking_?!"

"No shit?"

"Do you know your dad has just arrived? He's requested you get yourself to the main office where he is waiting for you right now. I said I'd be two minutes, and I've been gone fifteen!"

"I knew he was coming at some point but not exactly when. Keep your shirt on. Cracking up with your old age, Uncle Mark. You and I both know dad turns up when he wants..."

"Get your ass moving!" Mark marches him off, pushing him from his friends as they chirp a goodbye.

"Chip!" Jack shouts back, an unsaid loyalty in just a simple tone of voice. And again, Jessie looks sad.

* * *

Anna even laughs silently, just a small sounding of air when she breathes in to gather herself. Sarah thinks she's sweet, having seen a little more of her today than she had previously. Though, she didn't understand anything Anna mimed, Mary translated. "So, how did you learn? Was it Anna that taught you?"

"Yeah," Mary huffs, putting the last of her equipment away from the days dress making. "I know the basics anyway. I don't know everything. And, as you witnessed, I sometimes say the wrong thing." With a finger in the air, Mary remembers something. "Guess who I saw!"

"I really…" Sarah scoffs. "I don't know. I don't know what you get up to anymore. You seem to be here, there, and everywhere." Mary's kind of majestic to watch as every little piece of her fabrics and tools had a home. It was extremely messy earlier, and miraculously everything had been put away to its unique place in a matter of minutes.

"I'm amazing, aren't I? You can say that if you want."

"I've always thought you were amazing. You know that." Sarah hides her smile with her cup and looks to Anna who hides her mouth.

"You are a terrible liar! But anyway, I saw Dalton with his wife and his grown up kids." She has an awestruck face when she looks at her. "Time goes _so_ fast."

"Is that like, five now?" For a minute she wonders what would happen if her and Dalton had gotten together. It was a stupid thought. Sarah would've liked to have more children, probably the same amount their parent's had. Four seemed perfect. But that was long gone, no way would she have the time or Eric the patience for more children with their own being big characters. "I'm surprised you don't see him more often."

"I'm cooped up in here most of the time or making visits to different factions when I'm not here - to get some orders in. I know he's busy a lot, especially with that amount of kids."

"Do you not want anymore?"

"If it happens, it happens, but I'm too busy. I like the life we have now. We all know our place. Mark's very relaxed in his position at work - well, once this month is over with."

"And on that note…" Sarah stands. "I make my leave."

"Don't be stupid, stay as long as you want."

To be fair, there was nobody at home to go back to. She knew April wouldn't be there; avoiding her or working. But it was dark out now, and she had things to catch up on as the day had been a jumble with Eric preparing to leave. "I've got some arrangements to make. Luckily, Eric has taken off the workload with the sewage problem, I really couldn't deal with that right now."

"That's one thing off the list then, I suppose."

"So it just leaves Erudite. I'm hoping to get away with a phone call to see how the arrangements are going, maybe email. I haven't decided. Eric suggested I could sort out his filing-"

"He never fails to impress me," Mary says sarcastically, scrunching up her nose.

"I don't mind."

"Do you _snoop_ at all?" Mary asks and Sarah looks at her strangely. "You know, see what he's up to?"

"Why would I want to do that?" Sarah laughs.

"He takes me for a man that has a thousand things going on at once and only tells you one percent of it."

"What does that mean?" Sarah looks towards Anna who is nodding. "Anna?" The girl shakes her hands, apologizing.

"It's just a simple question."

"I'm not a sixteen year old girl with a short-term boyfriend. We've been married for years, I don't think anything on there would be interesting to me."

Mary whispers, "I'd totally be snooping."

"Snooping is asking for trouble," Sarah says slowly, to both of them. "I actually think you two are the biggest snoopers ever, using the cover-up of dressmaking for the excuse to gossip…" She finishes her drink and plants the cup neatly back on the table. "And drink hot drinks endlessly. Not to mention the amount of cake you've made me eat."

"That is Mrs Patrick's fault."

"Either way, I'm going home _and_ to walk of this cake. Tomorrow I will be involved with no snooping but work. Thank you for having me in your gossip den."

"It's hardly a gossip den when there only ever seems to be the same faces." Mary snatches at Sarah's skirt as they walk to the door, playfully fighting, getting rid of the snarky air in Sarah in an instant as she stumbles for her boots.

"Quit it!" Sarah gasps, pushing her away, then hugs her once her boots are back on. "Tomorrow?"

"As always." Mary passes her jacket from the stand by the door, and Sarah makes the same route through Abnegation she took most days.

She's smiling while pushing her arms through the sleeves, flattening the front and buttoning it up quickly to the chill in the air. She glances behind her, thinking of the night of when Thomas caught up to her, but pushes it aside. Coming to a long abandoned section in the street which branched off to different directions, she crosses without looking, sorting the cuffs of her long coat.

The car is silent, a crafted vehicle by Erudite, and she is only aware of it when the tyres screech on the old tarmac, avoiding her by a hairsbreadth. Sarah falls onto her backside, catching herself with her hands.

"What are you doing!" shouts a man, throwing his door open and racing over once the car had come to a stop. "I could've killed you!"

"I'm sorry!" Struggling to get up, she's pulled to her feet instead, grabbing the person for balance.

"Sarah?" It's Blake, those dark eyes even more mystifying in the night. "Are you okay? Excuse me, it's the fright you gave. I didn't see you until the last minute."

"I'm okay." She thinks, brushing herself off. "I didn't hear you. It's my fault. Not many cars come through here at this time."

"Do you know what time it is? You shouldn't be walking around here by yourself."

"Why's that? The streets aren't dangerous."

"I know Eric is away, but I'd have thought he would have someone escort you at this hour." He rubs a hand through the short sides of his hair, still holding her arm.

"You've seen Eric?"

"Earlier today, at the wall. We went through a few things. He left and I'm just coming back from there."

Sarah furrows her brow. "He left? He said he was there for two nights?"

"Amity or something. Some work he has to do. Here, let me drive you home."

"Amity?" Her body begins to feel warm. "You mean he went to Amity? Is that what you are saying?"

Blake shrugs. "I guess."

Sarah nods slowly. Of course. The question is, why wouldn't he tell her. "Did he say why?"

Blake's face softens a little in curiosity. "I'm not sure. Is anyone really that adapted to Eric to even know why he does a lot of things? He's… he's quite a character. That's for sure. Do women really go for that incurable arrogance that he has?"

Sarah looks to her hands, the sudden prickling of betraying tears in her eyes. "I don't know what you mean."

"My female staff have been taken with his ways."

"Female staff?" If his lie didn't hurt enough, this idle conversation was beginning to shatter her resolve.

"Yes. I reminded them promptly that he was taken." He tries laughing it off, but it doesn't even register with her.

"You did?" But her voice is distant, and she peers over at the car. "Would you mind taking me home? I know it's out of the way. If it's too much fuss-"

"I would be delighted." Holding an arm out, he escorts her to the passenger door, opening it for her and settling her into the seat. "Are you sure you are okay? You look a little shook up."

"I'll be fine." As he steps back to shut the door, Sarah stops him. "Blake? If you had any thoughts, from a man's perspective, that my husband was… is…"

"He'd be a fool. And maybe the rest of us would be in with a chance."

Sarah smiles at him faintly. The door closes, and she pulls out her phone, bringing up Eric's name.

* * *

Chip follows behind Jack nervously with Mark following behind. He can't help but smirk to himself. The main office was a tent much like where they were staying but smaller, and inside Eric's behind the only desk, standing up when he sees him enter. His eyes are on his arm, and he claps him on his good side. "Dad," Jack greets him.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it's alright." His dad then focuses on Chip behind him who stands too straight and orderly, and he gives him a look saying 'And who's this?' without having to voice it. "This is Chi- Ryan," he recovers. "He's on guard with me."

"Mark, we're good here," Eric dismisses, and from behind him, his phone vibrates on the desk. "Haven't been gone long and my son has a near fatal accident. Can't say I didn't see that coming."

"Didn't want to disappoint."

Eric grins at him, but it's hardly friendly. "Your mom is worried about you. Asks about you daily." Walking back to the desk, he plants himself on the edge of it. "I couldn't get here any sooner."

"How long are you here for?"

"Until midday tomorrow, then I'll be doing the rounds this end - showing my face, then I'm heading back." Eric pierces through Chip again with a agitated look. "Well, there's been a bit of an issue back home, some old building works failing beneath our very feet. I'll be taking some of the guards to supervise the work at the end of the week. What'cha say, Ryan, you up for it?"

Chip snaps his head up and away from the floor. "Er, yes. Yes, sir."

"And me?" Jack asks.

"It's better if you recover here." When his son drops into an expression of disappointment, Eric picks something up from the desk. "Here." It's an A4 pad. Jack immediately gives it to Chip and Eric scoffs to himself. "Didn't take you for a pansy boy. He your new boyfriend?"

"Thanks," Chip mumbles, a shade of red. Jack ignores his father.

"You enjoying the Amity welcome?" Eric simpers, and Jack knows this is leading somewhere uncomfortable.

"It's okay, I guess."

"Back in my day, Amity was the place to be." Eric folds his arms. "As fun as they are, don't get swept up in their peace, love manifesto. They like to hook Dauntless boys."

Jack rolls his eyes. "Can we not… talk about this?"

"There are lots of beautiful girls," Chip cuts in and shrugging when Jack scowls at him.

"Is that so? Maybe you could give a little heads up to Jack here."

"I've tried."

"Dude?" Jack snaps and he mouths 'what?'

Eric clears his throat, the gesture to say that this conversation was coming to end. "I had to see with my own eyes if you were okay. Seems you are. I'm… glad." The phone on the desk vibrates again as a reminder. "We'll have breakfast together tomorrow." Eric picks the phone up and unlocks it with them still in the room, the bright light startling in the downy light of the tent, frowning as he did so. "Eight o'clock."

Jack knew a dismissal when he heard one. "Goodnight." He tilts his head to Chip to leave. "Say hello to mom for me."

Eric doesn't look up, reading Sarah's message, " _How's the sanitary issue going_?" It was a simple enough message. Hesitating, he types back, " _Okay. You want to comfort me then you could send me a little bit of what I'm missing. If you want to_ …" He could almost imagine her expression so vividly in his mind as she read it.

" _I've never been to the wall. What is it like_?"

He sighs, turning the phone over a few times. She obviously hadn't caught on to his humor. " _It's exactly what everyone imagines. Cold_."

" _Goodnight_."

"Goodnight?" he whispers to himself. "Good fucking night?"


End file.
